Euphoria, Inc
by ButterflyPages
Summary: What does the CEO of an intimate products company, Euphoria Inc. and the Governor of New York have in common? Nothing until their paths cross in a show down of epic proportions. Under pressure from religious groups, Governor Fitzgerald Grant, thwarts the opening of Spa Bliss, Olivia Pope's first intimate spa. She won't let anything stand in the way of her success, not even love.
1. Stalled

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Pleasure. That is what I do, well, not directly. I am a facilitator of pleasure, sexual pleasure, through my company, Euphoria, Inc. But it stands to reason that people who don't know me, the real me, may assume I, Olivia Pope, am a master or mistress-for those less progressive consumers-of pleasure.

The blush coloring the intern's fair skin while she said, "Ms. Pope, thank you for giving us the pleasure of your presence," was an indication of those assumptions. Upon realizing the presumed double entendre in her words, she blushed a deeper shade of bright red and exchanged her sweet smile for a look of embarrassed horror.

"Oh, Ms. Pope, I didn't mean…I meant," she stammered.

Smiling brightly, Olivia lightly tapped her hand. "Oh, the pleasure was all mine…Ana, right?"

The girl bobbed her head and stepped back as Olivia's driver opened the door to the black sedan. Olivia slipped inside the darkened interior, surprised to see Abby, chief operations officer for Euphoria, Inc, seated inside.

She frowned. Abby was not where she was supposed to be. Olivia didn't like it when things didn't go as planned.

"I'll never understand it, Liv. You reduce men and women, young and old, to starry-eyed, drooling idiots," Abby said, taking one last look at the intern before they eased into traffic.

"It's not real Abby. They aren't drooling over me. It's what I represent. I am the CEO of a company that sells sex toys and all the accouterments. I sell sex," Olivia said.

"You empower women to live healthy and vital lives by exploring all facets of their sensuality, achieving increasing heights of sexual excitement by harnessing the power of orgasm through a vast array of erotic toys and lingerie. That is not selling sex. It's empowerment, connection, experiencing your true essence, isn't that right, Ben?" Abby said.

Ben's eyes flashed at them in the rearview mirror. He'd been Olivia's driver for 5 years and privy to these types of conversations as well as many other aspects of Olivia's professional and personal life.

"Right, Ms. Whelan. My wife and I are more connected than we've ever been since you all gave me that gift to give to her…the Calla Lily…it is-" Ben said, smiling.

"We know, Ben. It's from our flower line. It was all in your smile," said Abby.

Olivia looked impatient. "My point exactly. We have a healthy male customer base and not just for our couples product. They want sex, but Abby I know you aren't here, away from the office, to educate me on what Euphoria sells…" Olivia said forcefully, changing the energy in the car.

The whir of the mechanical partition going up sounded immediately. Ben didn't need to be prompted to give them privacy to deal with whatever bad news Abby carried.

When they partition was fully closed, Abby sighed and faced Olivia. "The launch of Spa Bliss is stalled, Liv. We're up shit's creek because we may have to ask _Vanity Fair_ to pull your interview from today or redo it without announcing the launch. Esther is working on alternatives now. And I'm sorry we didn't find out about this before the interview. Literally, I got the call an hour ago so I've set up meetings-" Abby frantically explained.

"Abby, Abby, stop!" Olivia said, shaking her head in disbelief, "Slow down. Spa Bliss cannot be stalled. Everything is on schedule for next month's opening. So where is this coming from? Do we need more funding? Did our lease fall through? Did our manager quit? What is it? Because whatever it is I can fix it," promised Olivia.

Abby looked sad and stricken for the first time since the conversation ensued. "You can't fix this, Olivia. The freaking governor of New York has passed a moratorium on any new businesses in the adult industry. Yes, we jumped through all hoops to get our respective licenses, but this just cropped up today. There was a fax, an e-mail, and a call from Governor Grant's office sent out to all the businesses in our industry due to open in this cycle. We're royally screwed, Liv, as I have no idea when this thing will be lifted. This is Esther's fault. She's our public relations guru. She should have anticipated this," Abby said.

Olivia pulled out her cell phone and began swiping through the screens. "No. Damn it, this is my fault. I should have known. This is an election year. Grant wants another term. This is a stunt to appeal to conservatives or whatever group launched…a…petition," said Olivia, flashing the phone to Abby.

Abby snatched the phone from Olivia before beginning to read the screen. " 'Morality Watch Petition…Considering the high concentration of sex shops, strip clubs, and other adult oriented businesses, we the undersigned, demand the Governor put a moratorium on all new businesses in the adult industry' how in the hell did they get…is that forty thousand signatures?" said Abby.

Olivia grabbed her phone back. "Abby, you need to calm down. Let me think."

* * *

Cyrus and Fitz clinked their tumblers together.

"Congratulations, Governor…and I mean to a second term, sir," said Cyrus.

Fitz cracked a lazy smile and sauntered over to the sofa with Cyrus following behind. They sat on opposite sides. Cyrus didn't take a sip of his scotch, waiting for Fitz to go first.

"Well, Cy, I'm not one for counting my chickens before they hatch, but I hope to accept your congratulations in a few short months," Fitz said, before turning up the tumbler to this lips.

Cyrus followed suit, trying not to let his distaste for the drink show on his face.

"It's a done deal after that petition cropped up. It's done and we have the holy rollers off our backs," said Cyrus.

Fitz leaned over to place his glass on the table. Leaning back he considered, Cyrus. "How many businesses did you say were affected?" Fitz asked.

"Less than 20…all lightweights I suspect," Cyrus answered.

Fitz raised his eyebrows. "You suspect? I thought you examined each of them for possible problems in the future so you said and I quote, 'they won't come back and bite us in the butt.'"

"Sir, I wasn't able to personally check each one of them out. I had someone trustworthy do it, looking for heavyweights, any allies, or rabble-rousers. Trust me. We are okay. Now sir, I hate to bring this up, but we need to start…"

Fitz rolled his eyes, "I know, Cy. We need to get me dating. I've passed the year mark since Mellie's death and the focus groups tell me I need to get out there. I know the drill, but I don't have to get out there tonight. I'm going to bask in my almost victory and have dinner with my children," said Fitz with a sad smile.

* * *

 **Just a little idea rolling around in my head. Pray that I can update it more often as well as my others. Thanks for reading.**

 **~BP**


	2. Back and Forth

**Chapter 2**

 **Back and Forth**

* * *

"It's not like Liv to be late," said Harrison, walking to the credenza for another cup of coffee. "You want me to top you off?" He looked back at Abby sitting at the conference room table.

Abby threw up her palm, head bent over the tablet, flipping through the screens. "I'm having some serious stomach issues since this major monkey wrench was thrown into our plans for Spa Bliss," she said.

Harrison returned to his seat. Lowering his voice, he said, "Don't let this leave the room, but I wasn't exactly on board with Spa Bliss. It's really a glorified brothel but with women receiving instead of giving the pleasure. Like that book...what was it?… _Sexual Healing_? My wife read it with her book group, and I made the mistake of not getting out of the house before they began their discussion."

"If you weren't so good at your job, Harrison, I'd recommend you be fired. You've never understood the mission and goals of this company. You stick with making sure we stay in the black and let us handle everything else," Abby said, angrily.

"I understand Euphoria, and attribute the longevity of my healthy marriage to many of its products, but bringing people together for pleasure instead of selling them toys, online for said pleasure is an entirely different beast. People are unpredictable. There are too many variables to account for. In case you've forgotten, financials _and_ risk management fall under my umbrella. Spa Bliss is a catastrophe waiting to happen. Maybe we produce some instructional videos on orgasmic meditation instead of providing the service," said Harrison forcefully, "It's going to bring out the crazies."

"I respect your opinion, Harrison. We obviously disagree, but having a variety of perspectives around my table will only make Euphoria better," Olivia said, "Please forgive my tardiness. I've been playing phone tag with the governor's office all morning."

Abby and Harrison stood to their feet as Olivia made her entrance into the room. She gave each of them a firm handshake, her standard greeting. Abby and Harrison forgot about their argument. Olivia's appearance had their full attention.

She looked like a muted version of herself. Usually, her color palate was vibrant, matching the season, pastel and floral in the spring, earth tones in the fall, whites in the winter, and a combination of bright colors in the summer. Her wardrobe was very feminine, skirts and dresses mostly, in rare cases slacks. So when she walked in sporting a dark blue suit and boxy wedges, along with a severe bun and large eye glasses, adding insult to injury, Abby and Harrison stared, dumbfounded.

"No comments about my clothing? I'm shocked," said Olivia evenly.

"Are you in mourning, Liv?" Abby said.

"There is no need for mourning. Spa Bliss will open on schedule, perhaps ahead of schedule, if I have my way. Today, I have-"

Harrison frowned, not hiding his resistance. "But how? I thought Grant and that group squashed it-" he rushed in.

"Let her explain. We know how you feel about this-"

"You don't know anything. I am just looking out for our interests-"

Olivia interjected, raising her hands to halt the argument. "Both of you, stop this childish bickering. We are all adults in the room who can disagree without being disagreeable."

"Thank you," she said after a few seconds, beginning her characteristic stroll around the room. "I've been trying to get a meeting with the governor since yesterday morning. His chief of staff, Cyrus Beene, won't take my calls. He must be expecting calls from businesses after the moratorium because they've already prepared statements posted on Secretary of State website and on the phone recording-"

"I'm sorry you have to do this Olivia. As a contingency, I've been looking at sites in New Jersey and Philadelphia to see-" said Abby.

"As I said, Abby, I'll handle this. Looking for other sites is not necessary. The first Spa Bliss location will be in New York as we-"

"First location? Are we really trying to open more of these?" Harrison added.

"I will not have this discord at the heart of Euphoria!" Olivia railed, slamming the desk.

Abby and Harrison quieted immediately. Olivia's deliberate show of force was also characteristic.

"I'm sorry, Olivia," said Abby.

"I am too," said Harrison.

"Since our ten o'clock appointment should be here any moment now, I won't go into details. I was able to get a meeting with the governor for later today, hence my unfortunate attire. I'll explain why later. I guarantee that Spa Bliss will be back on track after this meeting. Okay, give me the highlights of this candidate? Ms. Abiba Mashalaba?"

Abby wanted to push Olivia further for information on how she secured a meeting with the governor, but thought it better not to now. "Yes, Abiba Mashalaba. She has worked at Lotus for five years after working as an independent licensed sex therapist for the previous ten. She specializes in orgasmic meditation, sex therapy, and tantra yoga."

"What job are we considering her for again? I'm apologize for not preparing this morning," said Harrison.

Abby took a deep breath. "Program Director and Chief Practitioner. She would create our spa program and train our practitioners. The position is flexible and we want someone who is creative enough to build our program offerings."

There was a knock on the door.

"That must be Ms. Mashalaba. Five minutes early," said Olivia.

Abby walked to the door and opened it. "Hello, Ms. Mashalaba." She extended her hand and tilted her head up in greeting to the extremely tall woman gracing the door dressed in a wrap skirt and a voluminous scarf expertly draped around her neck. There was a regal quality about her. Perhaps it was her locs pulled up in an ornate style or the thin gold bangles from wrist to elbow on each arm that conveyed her strong presence.

"Hello, Ms. Pope. Call me, Abiba, please. This is my associate, Ms. Perkins," she said in a deep melodious voice with a hint of an accent.

A second woman about Abby's height sauntered in behind Abiba. "Hi, I'm Quinn…Perkins," she said. The perky lilt of her voice, loose pony tail, and blue and white polka dot shirtwaist dress set the perfect contrast to Abiba.

Abby mouthed a silent thank you to the receptionist who escorted them in and closed the door. "I'm Abigail Whelan, chief operations officer, but you can call me Abby. This is Harrison Wright, chief finance & risk management officer, and this," Abby continued, leading them to Olivia, "is Olivia Pope, CEO and Founder of Euphoria, Incorporated."

"Welcome, Abiba and Quinn, please have a seat. Would you like coffee, tea, water?" Olivia offered.

"Chamomile tea for me," said Abiba.

"I'll have the same," said Quinn.

"I've looked over your resume and portfolio so I know you are more than qualified to direct our programming at Spa Bliss. Tell me something about yourself that is not on the resume," asked Olivia after they were all settled. Flanked by Abby and Harrison on either side, she sat across from Abiba and Quinn.

Abiba took a sip of her tea before clasping her hands together. Olivia didn't know if she was stalling, searching for the right answer to a question that didn't really have a right answer or if she was taking her time, as an experience person would do. Finally, her gaze trailed from Harrison to Abby and then Olivia.

"I identify as asexual and have for the last 7 years. It is what distinguishes me from any other person you are considering for this position. This is not an assumption. I've done my homework. Since I've been doing this work, which I consider a ministry, I've brought over 5,000 women to single and multiple orgasms. I've helped them unlock this power to connect with themselves and their partners, male and/or female. I've instructed others in my methods as well," she explained.

Harrison smiled. "So…based on that, you think asexuality, not experiencing sexual attraction to any gender, is essential to this work? Why? Is it because performing it, being in that space, makes it just plain old sex?"

"No, no, no…with the proper training and intention anyone can do it therapeutically. My asexual orientation gives me a special insight that is unsullied by sexual desire. I can see beyond the cluttered desire of it and become the guide that pulls others forward," Abiba explained.

"Why did you leave, Lotus?" asked Abby.

"I have a follow up question," said Olivia, finally looking up from her notepad and stopping Abby, "So, have you ever experienced an orgasm in any context, whether therapeutic or with a sexual partner?"

"Yes and yes. Asexuality doesn't mean one can't be sexually aroused or brought to orgasm," she said.

"Interesting…ok as Abby said, why did you leave Lotus?" asked Olivia.

"It was for creative differences. After a change in management, the entire culture of Lotus changed, a better word is devolved. Profit became king. I was there to work with each woman according to her needs or the couples' needs. They on the other hand wanted me to quantify everything. Women could only have multiple orgasms if they bought the most expensive packages. But I couldn't control that. If a woman had a multiple then she had a multiple. They adopted a sort of fast food drive thru mentality. I couldn't work under those conditions," she said.

"So you let the woman's body dictate the number of times you help them get off…"

"Harrison…" said Olivia.

"I'm sorry…I don't see how this is any different from what a brothel would offer," he said.

"That is understandable, Harrison. You are a man. Orgasms for men are all together different, more straight forward, not as complex. I educate men and women on these matters. When a man understands the power of the female O, then he can fully embrace his own and eventually experience his own orgasm without ejaculating. The men I've worked with report more intensity when they orgasm sans ejaculate," she explained.

"Really," said Harrison, looking more interested and engaged. "Will this be offered at the spa?"

Abiba frowned. "Well, I would not recommend this be advertised unless the mission and vision of Euphoria has changed. When couples come and work with me, I can ascertain if this is something they both could benefit from. I would never work with a man who came alone looking to receive or learn this method of orgasm without ejaculate."

The room fell silent as they all digested her words.

"What role does Quinn play in your practice?" asked Olivia.

"Quinn is my apprentice. She was a client who became interested in learning orgasmic massage. She agreed to come today to help me show you how a session might go. We can do a role play," said Abiba.

"You will perform OM here, now in this i-interview?" asked Harrison.

"Yes, if that is permissible. Perhaps you, Harrison, might have more respect for the practice. I can tell you are doubtful," Abiba predicted.

"We've had product demonstrations, but they are usually viewed on tape, not real time, but I am on board…if it is okay with Olivia and Abby," he said, with a self-satisfied grin.

"I think that is a great idea, Abiba. But I want to propose a change...a modification that will give me a better chance to observe you in even more authentic conditions. If it is okay with you, Abby, I'd like Abiba to guide you through an orgasmic meditation session, in brief," suggested Olivia.

"Well, I don't see why not," said Abby.

"I'll leave the room if you'd like. I need to make sure you updated your release form," Harrison said, standing and making his way to the door.

"You can stay, Harrison. I think you're scared to watch. And yes, I've signed the form. I won't sue Euphoria now or in the future for sexual harassment," Abby said.

"Ok. Quinn can help me set up? We can use the area there by the flip chart," said Abiba.

Fifteen minutes later, Abby reclined on a large fluffy pillow clothed only from the waist up. A towel covered her mid-section. Abiba knelt beside her.

"I would begin by asking the client about her concerns. If her partner were present I'd involve them in the conversation. Let's pretend she is alone and feeling disconnected or perhaps it is hard for her to achieve orgasm," proposed Abiba.

"I-I have a question," said Harrison who sat the farthest away. "What if a client doesn't have a concern? They have no trouble sexually or otherwise. Would they need this?"

"Why would anyone go to a spa, Harrison? Does everyone who gets a facial need one or are they looking to feel better, get rejuvenated, or perhaps treat acne. Every person is different. Let's say that Abby simply needs rejuvenation. The scenario will be this: We've already talked. She's comfortable with me. Once she is calm. I would ask for final permission to begin. I will put some lubricant on my fingers-they are sanitized-and place it just above her clitoris. Abby, you may close your eyes or keep them open. I need you to focus on that place, a place where you feel whole and free. Now I will stop talking and commence," said Abiba.

Abby kept her eyes closed. Although she trusted Olivia's judgment, she felt uncomfortable agreeing to do this, especially with Harrison in the room. She'd tested her share of Euphoria products, but at home alone. Despite the pleas of whatever guy she was dating at the time, she never used any of the paraphernalia with them. Abby accepted that she might be a prude that way. When she was with a man, she only wanted man. When she was alone, she wanted her products and never the twain should meet. But here she was ass bare while a possible job candidate was massaging her secret parts. Abby made a decision. She took a deep breath and imagined that those fingers were slightly meatier, that the person rubbing her clitoris now, was Harrison.

Harrison began to question why he was still working at Euphoria. He'd turned down several job offers in the last 5 months that would have paid him significantly more than he made now. He didn't want to admit that his resistance, those arguments with Abby, were mostly manufactured. He enjoyed working at Euphoria and was looking forward to this next venture. Was it the sex? He wasn't getting any sex other than from his wife, but working at Euphoria brought him into contact with some form of sex every day. It was the proximity he liked, whether it was the product release videos, bringing home toys to try on his wife, or being in the inner circle, on the executive team, of the company. It felt good and gave him a level of sexual excitement he wouldn't get anywhere else, with his wife's approval. There was something else he didn't want to admit as he began to hear Abby's breathing slow and deepen. She began grasping for something unseen until she reached back and pulled on the pillow, her nipples strained against her blouse. When he saw her hips lift off the floor he looked away just before seeing Abiba's arm under the towel and between Abby's legs. He reasoned Abiba didn't have to see what she was doing. The uncomfortable fit of his pants signaled his hardness. He couldn't witness this anymore without wishing he could trade places with Abiba.

Quinn was happy to observe. She hoped one day she would be as skilled as Abiba. She felt the obvious sexual energy crackling in the room between the woman on the floor with Abiba and the man at the table trying to pretend he didn't want to watch the woman orgasm. Quinn wanted to be more like Abiba, shunning drama and negative energy, but that was a difficult path. She, however, would bet her stipend that it was only a matter of time before Harrison and Abby were having very non-therapeutic sex. This made her smile, and by the dampness in her own panties, aroused as well.

Olivia thought about many things as she watched Abby respond to Abiba's touch. She made a mental note to ask Abiba to create a mock up of the various programs she would offer at Spa Bliss. She realized she would need to have fluffier pillows in every Spa Bliss room. Thoughts of design, work flow, product placement, and web design crowded her mind. But her body was basically numb. She pushed the details aside realizing she should let Abby, Abiba, and others on her team worry about that. She would have the final approval of course. Sometimes she got bogged down in the details that were better suited for those below her pay grade. But she had made one decision. She would hire Abiba. As she heard Abby's moans increase, a sliver of doubt clouded her. Was this the success she had clamored for? Was this really her calling or was she an imposter? How could she, who had never experienced an orgasm herself, nor had a desire to, be at the helm of a company like this?

"Oh damn, oh damn, ohhhhhhhh…"

 _Sound proofing. We need to sound proof the rooms._ This wasthe next thought that entered Olivia's mind.

* * *

Fitzgerald Grant read over the same sentence three times. His brain could not register the words into a coherent thought. After a day of meetings and briefings, he was ready to go home, but it was just 2:30. He'd let Mrs. Hanley retire early. With his schedule free for the remainder of the day and Cyrus gone he had planned to lock himself in his office to finish reading a 3rd draft of a proposed bill. With Mrs. Handley's desk empty, and his office door closed, everyone would think he was gone.

He flipped the papers back to the first page and begin to reread. Two swift knocks on the door brought a confused scowl to his face. He stiffened and held his breath waiting for the unknown intruder to step away. Confusion turned to anger when the door opened.

"Governor Grant, I'm sorry to bother you, but-"

"Are you lost?" he said, training his scowl on the young woman in the doorway. It wasn't having much of an effect because she walked into the office brandishing a smile.

"No, Governor Grant. I have a meeting with you at 2:45, sharp. I'm Mary Joseph from Morality Watch. It's so nice to make your acquaintance, sir," she said extending her hand. Olivia took a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk.

"I don't have any more meetings scheduled for today. Mrs. Hanley isn't here…wait did you say Morality Watch?" Fitz asked. His interested was piqued now. Hadn't he dealt with them? Why would they send a fresh faced intern to meet with him? Instantly, something didn't feel right. He locked eyes with her and walked around the desk.

Olivia rose and smiled, her face beginning to hurt from the exertion. She hoped she was coming off as authentic with her manufactured southern accent. In her mind religious and southern went hand and hand. She sprinkled in a healthy dose of deference and smiling to complete her feminine southern belle persona. She was an agent of the bastion of conservative Christianity. They intensity of his gaze when he came around the desk and stared down at her caused her to second guess her plan.

"Yes, Morality Watch. I have some important information to share with you, sir. The Director, um…" Olivia tried to explain, but the name of the director slipped her mind as she looked into his deep blue eyes. _Is he trying to intimidate me_ , she thought? Keeping her smile, she tried to stand taller, leveling her gaze and smile, hoping it wasn't too artificial. "Charles Sanders couldn't make it so he sent me."

"I still don't understand how you got on my schedule and why Mrs. Hanley didn't inform me. But you might as well have a seat since you're here," Fitz directed.

Olivia sat down and he took the seat next to hers.

"So, what is it?" he said with less of a scowl. In truth, he wondered why she was wearing such ridiculous looking frames. They covered the majority of her face.

"Well, sir, it's regarding the moratorium you kindly agreed to enact-"

"You all forced my hand with that petition and Sanders knows that. I've done my part so…"

Olivia pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, becoming impatient with his overall demeanor. She could tell he was used to being in control, calling the shots, setting the agenda, all the things she was used to as well. _I am in control,_ she reminded herself.

"Yes, governor and we thank you for that. The people of New York thank you, even those countless families you saved from the scourge of immorality. But I am here to ask you to lift the moratorium immediat-"

"What!? This makes no sense. I just enacted it yesterday. My staff sent out notifications and press releases to that end. Now your group wants me to undo it...like magic? You have to leave. Tell Sanders to contact my chief of staff about this on Monday. This is a major breach of protocol…you coming to me directly…"

Olivia lost her cool. She stood. "Listen just...listen. Yesterday after the moratorium was enacted. The leaders of Morality Watch and the owners of the businesses targeted by the moratorium met via conference call to broker a deal. Praise the Lord! A deal was reached! If the moratorium is lifted and the businesses are allowed to open on schedule, proceeds from the sales, for as long as the business are functioning, will go to a cadre of religious organizations and churches, and outreach programs chosen by Morality Watch. You must lift the moratorium for this purpose. This benefits all parties concerned."

"No. I'm not going to do it. It always comes down to money. What is it the good book says? The love of money is the root of all evil? Morality Watch is willing to get in bed with these business so long as they get paid? Morality Watch couldn't stomach the adult industry so now it's going to take money from it to fund religious programs? It sounds more like if you can't beat them join them to me," Fitz said with a smirk. He had to admit that this felt good. The shoe was on the other foot. He could jerk them around like they had jerked him around.

Olivia sat back down. "Are you a religious man, sir?"

"Not in the way Morality Watch would define religion. I don't use it to lord my views over people."

"Well, I know you are a political man who wants to win an election. If you don't lift this moratorium, you'll be seen as the man who stood in the way of progress and the historic collaboration between saints and sinners. Those holding up the banner of Christianity and Capitalism, but in the final estimation Christians and Capitalists are on the same team, governor. Do you want to be seen as being on the opposing team?" Olivia waited 10 seconds to see if he would believe the humongous pile of bull she was shoveling. "I guess not, sir. I'll tell Mr. Sanders you aren't willing to work with us. Good day," she said, rising to make her grand exit. Part of her hoped he would be swayed. The other part of her was already shifting strategy, calling this visit a loss.

"Wait…" he said.

Olivia's hand had clasped the door knob. She almost shivered in relief. She closed her eyes, stealing a second to exhale.

By the time she exited his office 30 minutes later, he had agreed to lift the moratorium.

* * *

"Cheers!" screamed the crowd of excited on lookers as Olivia finished delivering the final toast of the night. The atmosphere crackled with excitement at the Spa Bliss launch celebration capping off the release of the _Vanity Fair_ article and the ribbon cutting that morning. The article was a major marketing tool with a feature length article, "Olivia Pope, The Woman, The Power, The Pleasure."

"Olivia, these photos of you are delicious. I can't believe you let them dress you up like a dominatrix in this one. And this one like the sexy librarian? Really except for the cover photo, they've pretty much covered every man's fantasy with with these photos," said Maxim, one of the lingerie designers for Euphoria, Inc.

Tonight, Olivia was dressed in a simple red sheath dress and a pair of gladiator style stilettos. "I know," she said with a sigh, "Of course the media will embellish and play to the mainstream audience. The article reads like Wall-Street Journal article and doesn't go into all that we will offer at Spa Bliss. Hopefully, the hint of pleasure will get the customers in and drive sells to the website so they will understand our brand."

"I think these pictures will do the job, darling. But they're going to draw in the men more than the women you're looking for, but everyone's money is green right?" he said.

"Yes, of course, Maxim," Olivia said half-heartedly. She gave him kisses on each cheek and continued greeting her guests.

"Abiba! So glad you could come. Thanks for hitting the ground running. You only had a month, but you have the place fully staffed and ready for our opening tomorrow. I knew you were the right choice," said Olivia.

"Yes, I will do great work here. I must tell you that I was a little surprised by the pictures in the _Vanity Fair_ issue. I think it gives the wrong message about the mission of Spa Bliss. I fear I may have to spend a great deal of time educating those, particularly men, who come to the spa looking for, well frankly what you were projecting in those photos, Olivia," Abiba explained.

Olivia sighed. She felt admonished like a little child by her employee. "I understand your concern. Yes, this may present a small messaging problem with our brand, but we'll deal with that as it comes. You've done a great job of communicating our programs on the website and in all printed materials. Do your job, Abiba. I'll do mine. Please continue to enjoy your evening."

Olivia felt twinges around her eye. One of her pernicious migraines was beginning to form. The twinges would morph into a weak ache and then into a full blown episode of pain. She needed to go home now, but first she needed to find Abby and Harrison. She walked to the back offices of Spa Bliss. When she turned the knob, the scene that met her eyes made her forget to breathe.

There was Abby, Harrison, and Abiba's apprentice, Quinn, entangled together on the floor in various stages of undress, writhing together, each giving and receiving one from another in a grand m _énage à trois. They_ moved together with the synchronicity, smoothness and familiarity of ones that had done this many times before. Fresh realization flooded Olivia's mind. She had thought Harrison and Abby stopped their bickering because of a new willingness to work together. Now she knew the reason. _What role had Quinn played in all this?_ she wondered.

Olivia didn't want to, couldn't bear to, deal with this personnel issue now. She stealthily locked the door and backed out of the room.

* * *

"Ms. Pope, why are you leaving your party so soon?" asked Ben. "Everything is going okay, right. The governor hasn't thrown any more fire bombs at you, I hope?"

Olivia sank into the welcome quiet and darkness of the sedan.

"Oh, Ben. That seems like such a long time ago. Resolving that wrinkle was easy, but running a business is never without some controversy. It's like playing wack a mole…as soon as you smack one, another one appears. My political problems are long resolved. Looks like I have some personnel issues now, but nothing I can't handle…now, I need rest so I can fight off this migraine," she explained, closing her eyes and reveling in the calm.

"Aww, I'm sorry to hear about that, Ms. Pope. I was talking to my Vera about your migraines. She thinks this tea from McKinney's Pharmacy might help you. Would you mind if I stop by and get if for you before I drop you off?" asked Ben.

Olivia smiled, grateful for Ben. She realized that he was quite possibly the only friend she had. He was her employee, but he was also her friend. That's what she needed now, a friend. "I'd like that. I'm sure Vera knows best," Olivia murmured. She surrendered herself to the car, feeling it maneuver her down the city streets.

"Ms. Pope, I'll be right back," said Ben after they pulled over a couple of blocks later.

"'Kay," she mumbled.

Minutes after Ben's door shut, another one opened, the back passenger door. A gloved hand put a vice like grip on Olivia's wrist and pulled her out of the car. Another hand pressed hard into her lips, muffling the scream escaping from her throat. She was dragged to a black SUV parked behind where she and Ben had stopped. The man she had yet to see because he held her against his body facing away, opened the back passenger door and threw her inside. When she got her bearings, preparing to scream, the sound caught in her throat at the sight of Governor Grant sitting in the seat on her opposite side.

"Oh my God," she whispered. For the second time tonight, she was totally and completely flabbergasted.

Fitz chuckled. "That's about right. You traipse into my office with your southern belle manners and your plain holy Jane exterior and lie your way into forcing me to lift the moratorium that would have prevented you from opening your new...business. You have a lot of explaining to do, and I want the truth."

"But you can't do this. I'll come to your office tomorrow, talk to your chief of staff. I'm sure we can work something out. I-I understand your obvious anger, but you can't take a citizen against their will," she pleaded.

"Watch me," he said, as they drove off.

* * *

 **OOOO! It was extremely fun writing this. I hope you had as much fun reading it.**

 **Until the the cursor stops blinking and words appear**

 **~BP**


	3. Some Assembly Required

**Chapter 3**

 **Some Assembly Required**

* * *

"No. No, I-I-I'm fine, Ben. I'm at home now safe and sound. You don't have to—" Olivia tried to explain.

"But I don't understand it, Ms. Pope. I was only gone for 15 minutes," Ben said, a nagging worry in his voice, "maybe a little over that. You should not have left the car. I don't care about you throwing up . I—"

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the space between her eyebrows. She couldn't decide what emotion would prevail. She felt guilty for lying to Ben whose voice was growing more frantic by the moment. A swath of pain was spreading from her eyes, radiating to the top of her head. The fear she felt when she was first taken was now replaced with a burning anger at the man responsible for her exit from Ben's car. She could feel him watching her from across the room where he was perched on the arm of a leather couch as if he were waiting to give a press conference instead of trying to eavesdrop on the woman he had effectively kidnapped. Olivia wondered if this was some executive suite he used for business meetings or to escape the prying eyes of the press. She sighed, realizing she had stopped listening to Ben on the other line.

"Ben, please, please stop explaining. You did nothing wrong. I felt nauseous so I left the car. After I vomited, I felt better. I didn't return to the car because I didn't want to risk throwing up inside the car or the pharmacy. Walking helped my headache so when a taxi passed I hailed it and went home. I know it doesn't make sense, but you know how I get when I have these migraines. Thanks for buying the tea. I'll get it tomorrow. You go home and get some rest. I'll call you in the morning," Olivia said as softly as she could manage, hoping to both calm Ben with her lie and prevent the governor from eavesdropping.

Ben was silent for a while before he spoke. "Okay. I just don't like this, but I'm glad you are home. Call me first thing in the morning. Maybe you should make a doctor's appointment," he suggested.

"You're right, Ben. I probably should. I will. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night," she said hastily, hanging up before he could respond.

"You have a very dedicated driver," Fitz said.

Olivia jumped at his voice, realizing he was no longer across the room, but standing behind her, only a couple of feet away. She swung around and moved back against the table that held the phone. The momentum of her turn brought on a fresh frisson of pain. She grabbed her head to stave it off. Before she could react, he was steering her by the elbow to parts unknown. When they reached the sofa, she lowered herself down.

"I'll make you some coffee, black. Do you think that'll help your pain?" he said.

Olivia gave a ginger nod. She wanted to demand that he let her go, but the pain wouldn't allow for such demonstrations. There was no threat to her life she was sure, but it wasn't clear exactly what he wanted. It was obvious he had read the _Vanity Fair_ article and put all the pieces together. What wasn't clear was his intentions toward her, why he had taken her so dramatically. She believed they were alone since his driver and the goon who had taken her was nowhere in sight.

"Here take this," he said, handing her a cool cloth.

Olivia lifted her head from her hands and reached for it wondering how he moved so stealthily. She figured her lack of awareness had more to do with her pain than any special talent on his part.

"You should lie back," he said, swiveling her around and lifting her legs onto the sofa in one smooth motion. Before she could protest, the compress was on her brow and she felt the zipper from the back of her stilettos give way.

"No..don't," she protested, lifting up.

"Walking in these very high heeled boot contraptions can't be helping... all these ties and that heel have to be cutting off your circulation. Don't worry. My intentions are pure. I need you coherent so you can give me some answers, Ms. Pope. Relax. I'll have the coffee ready in a minute," he said.

Olivia's anger continued to grow. She hated his snide tone and the way he felt entitled to handle her. She took a deep breath noting how much better she did feel to have her feet free of those gladiator stilettos. Flexing her toes she pulled the cloth over her eyes and listened to the sounds. The swish and bump of a drawer opening and closing; the whooshing noises of coffee brewing; and the clink clank of dishes were strangely soothing. All the preparations for the opening of Spa Bliss had kept her in a constant state of motion. Lying here on the sofa, her body still with no freedom to leave in the present moment made her realize how bone tired and weary she was. The soft noises coming from the kitchen area and the robust smell of coffee gave her comfort. Her pain, still very present, had reduced to a dull ache. Thoughts of her father came unbidden. It was Christmas Eve and he was tucking her into bed pleading with her to sleep so that Santa Claus could visit her. She had frowned deeply and pleaded to stay up late since she no longer believed in Santa Claus after finding her gifts in her mom's sewing closet.

"Ms. Pope, one coffee, black," Fitz said.

Olivia's eyes shot open, she removed the cold compress and sat up. The realization of where she wasn't: at home, and where she was: at the governor's unknown abode, flooded into her, causing her dull ache to morph into a painful pounding. She reached for the cup and saucer, but he, noting her unsteadiness, set it before her on the glass coffee table and took a seat across from her on a matching leather chair.

"Thank you," she said with a glance his way. She noticed he had removed his dark blue suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. He was looking at her like someone trying to figure out a puzzle, his brows slightly knit together. For a small moment, she cared what he thought about her. Then she imagined that her eyeliner was probably smudged from all the eye rubbing. Her hair felt limp signaling that her curls had probably fallen. She knew her linen sheath was bent into countless wrinkles. Pursing her lips, she abandoned her self-consciousness and focused her energy on drinking the coffee and devising her exit strategy.

The chiming of a cell phone, his not hers, made her wonder where hers had gone. "Your belongings are by the door. Please excuse me. I have to take this," he said, rising and exiting the room.

Olivia blew on the coffee and took a tentative sip. It was surprisingly smooth without creamer. She took another sip, letting the warmth spread over her. After a couple of minutes, she began to feel alert. Slipping into her shoes, she zipped them up to her calf and then blotted her face with the cold towel. By the time she returned, she was beginning to feel almost like her normal self.

"My apologies. That was my Chief of Staff. You can imagine how nervous he must be knowing that I've brought you here using... _unconventional_ methods and knowing he is to blame. Had he done his job perhaps you wouldn't have been able to deceive me so well. You look better now so I guess we should get to the reason you are here," he said, resuming his seat.

Olivia finished her last sip. "Governor, I'll admit to questionable methods, yes, when I presented myself as-"

"Mary Joseph of Morality Watch when you're really Olivia Pope, CEO and founder of an adult entertainment company. Mary Joseph, _Mary Joseph!_...that was some theater you put on with your conservative garb and your big boxy glasses. You fooled me or better yet made a fool out of me. Now I have Sanders on my case and he doesn't even know a Mary Joseph or anything about a deal. He's now threatening to pull his support. Then the latest issue of _Vanity Fair_ crosses my desk and whom do I see on the cover? Mary Joseph. But this Mary Joseph is actually selling-"

Olivia held up her hand. "Governor Grant, with all due respect, I don't have time to sit here for a lecture, rehashing what I already know. Yes, I deceived you, in protest to your highhandedness that threatened to block the progress of my business. You did this all in the service of your own political interests. Truthfully, what you are doing now, taking me against my will is still in service to your own political interests. Now unless, you want me to go to the press with a full report of how you dragged me from my car like a piece of property, I suggest you get to the point. What do you want? How can we come to some sort of deal."

By the look of surprise on his face, she thought she'd gotten through to him. He rose from his chair and reached for her empty cup.

"I see you like the coffee. It's a Sumatra blend. More?" he asked.

Olivia rose to her feet and strolled to the impressive cherrywood coat rack. She collected her wrap and purse. Turning around she jumped in surprise. He was only an arm's length away.

"Ms. Pope, I'll tell you what I want over another cup," he said.

Attempting to reassert her authority, she looked at him straight on. "No. You tell me what you want now. This kidnapping is not turning into a social call. I don't even want to ask how you knew where I'd be. I want to get this done and over with. What do you want?" she emphasized.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. When you came to my office, you said that Sanders and the owners of the sex shops had reached an agreement. A portion of the proceeds from the sells of each company would go to Morality Watch. Even though you were feeding me line of bull, in reality it is a good deal. If I was seen as brokering it, I would gain in the polls. This is what I want. You will make it happen. Do what you have to do to get Morality Watch and your friends, competitors, and allies in the adult industry to sign on. You do that, and we can call it even."

"Are you serious? I don't have time to make deals like that. My company just launched a major new venture. I can't...I won't do that. It won't be aligned with the mission and vision of my company. I don't need to make alliances with a group like Morality Watch for obvious reasons. Euphoria gives liberally to charitable organizations that support _women,"_ she said, impatiently.

Fitz crossed his arms. "If you'd stay for another cup, I could explain, but you are in a rush so I'll be quick. You will be making this deal in my name as a sort of surrogate for my campaign. You'd be effectively working for me," he said nonchalantly.

"Working _for_ you? Working for _you?_ No, I can't work for you. I don't know anything about you aside from what is in the press and what you've shown me with your illegal actions. I know nothing about politics," she emphasized, slipping on her wrap and palming inside her purse for her phone.

"Yes, working for me. It's the same no matter what word you stress. At first, you got the better of me with this game you played. I thought you were working for Langston's campaign. After reading the article about you, my people did some digging and found out some interesting things. You're just full of lies or should I say surprises. Why was that article another line of bull? You want people to think you are some self-made woman without formal higher education when you actually have several degrees and have worked in politics, maybe not long, but you do have experience," he explained.

Olivia was nonplussed, but she recovered fast and glared at him. "I don't have time for this. I'll make a sizable contribution to your campaign," she said.

"I'm a busy man as you can imagine. I have a state to run. I'm raising two teenagers alone. I'm supposed to be dating, and I have a campaign to win. I could take your money and make my Chief of Staff fix this, but I don't want to do it that way," he said evenly.

"Why?" she asked, at a loss for words. She was having intense feelings of disdain for him, and she didn't try to hide it from her face. She hoped this man wasn't attracted to her. Was this the reason for this attempt to tie them together? she reasoned. Was this another instance of a person making a one-to-one correlation between what she did and who she was? Olivia thought about Abiba's declaration that she was asexual. Should she adopt that label to prevent people from making assumptions about her?

"Why you ask? Well, Ms. Pope. You've intrigued me. I want to get to know you-" he said.

Olivia grunted. "Look, I sell sex. I don't _do_ sex! I am..I'm..I identify as asexual. There is nothing here for you. I suggest you focus on the things you just said...your job, your kids, and your dating. I know what I did was a set back for your campaign, but as you said, you can get one of your surrogates to make the deal. You can direct your intrigue elsewhere. I'll have a check messengered over to you by the end of the week for $30,000. I'll include a Euphoria gift card you can use for whomever you choose. On second thought, I'll send the check to your SuperPac that way it can't be traced to Euphoria, Inc. Thanks for the coffee," she said. She reached for the door knob and turned, surprised when it opened. Outside stood a hulking man dressed in a suit and sport coat. She guessed it was the goon who dragged her from Ben's car. She gave him a quick glance and pushed the elevator button, not looking back and hoping the governor was not following her.

When the elevator door opened, she stepped inside. She glanced up and saw that he was standing there watching her from across the hallway.

She glanced away and pressed the button.

"Ms. Pope, I don't believe you," he said as the elevator door closed.

Olivia ignored his comment and grabbed her phone. She had multiple missed calls, mostly from Abby and Harrison.

She dialed Abby.

"Liv, where did you go? We've been calling you for the last three hours," Abby said.

"Abby, I need a car sent to..." she said, but stopped when she realized she didn't know where she was.

"Liv? Are you there? A car sent where?" Abby asked.

Olivia stepped outside of the high rise building, named The Concordia. There were taxis and town cars lining the street.

"Never mind Abby," she said throwing up her hand to hail the taxi, "what I really need to know is how long have you been sleeping with Harrison and Abiba's apprentice."

From the silence on the other end, Olivia knew she had caught Abby by surprise. She hadn't intended to address this tonight, but she needed something to take her mind off the very peculiar encounter she'd had with the governor.

* * *

 _It felt very good to update this story. I'm a day late and a dollar short on many updates. I'm not sure when I'll get back to this one or those others as my teaching is sort of all consuming right now. But I will get back to them. I like this Liv and this Fitz and am looking forward to exploring what will happen with them._

 _Thanks for reading, BP_


	4. The Java Main Method

**Chapter 4**

 **The Java Main Method**

* * *

Olivia sipped the coffee from the small dixie cup, hoping it was the flavor she remembered. The helpful woman behind the counter looked on expectantly.

"Is that the one ma'am?" she asked.

Olivia noticed the eagerness in her voice as she took the final swallow.

The hot liquid flowed onto her tongue. She held it there for a second, joy rising in her chest, eyebrows lifting in anticipation of the play of subtle flavors that would enliven her tongue if she'd found the right flavor. Her excitement fell flat when she swallowed.

Her brow crinkled in disappointment. "No, it's not the one I'm looking for. I admit this flavor is really close, but it doesn't have the same-"

"If you knew the name or even close to it, I would know which beans to start with. A Sumatra blend could, well, be anything. Where did you have it? Perhaps I could phone them for the name. A restaurant? A bar?," the woman said, grabbing a post-it note and a pen, eager to please.

At the woman's suggestion, Fitzgerald Grant's face appeared in her mind's eye, transporting her to that night, bending towards her as he placed the coffee on the table before her, giving her a quick wink and subtle smile. Olivia frowned, surprised by the brief daydream that didn't match what she recalled happening. He hadn't winked at her that night had he?

"Ma'am? Do you recall where you bought the coffee. It's really difficult to choose the same flavor on taste alone, especially with a blend," she said.

Olivia admired the quality customer service of the Jitterations Coffee Roasters employee who had taken up almost an hour to help her. She allowed Olivia to taste test 5 different brews using a number of different blend variations, never wavering from her enthusiasm. She was beginning to question her dogged search for the coffee Governor Grant had given her almost two weeks ago. Ever since that night, she'd had a craving for that coffee. Jitterations was the 7th roaster she'd tried. Olivia didn't dare rehash the true story of her coffee encounter although she replayed it in her head several times a day. Some days she wondered if she had dreamed it, especially since she hadn't heard a word from the governor in the 11 days since that night. Would ending her relentless search for that particular type of coffee, squash her thoughts of him?

Olivia glanced at the woman's name tag. "Jamiya," Olivia said making eye contact to reinforce sincerity, "thank you for all your help. I think it best for me to stop my search here. Don't worry about it. I'll take a half a pound of each blend you let me try." Olivia noticed how the woman's eyes widened, probably surprised given how much that would cost.

"But I'm happy to call-" Jamiya said.

"No, I don't...I do not remember where I had the coffee. I'm giving up my search. The beans I'm buying should be fine," Olivia said with a smile, accepting that she was never going to taste that coffee again.

* * *

"Sir, I've told you! Ms, Pope cannot see you today!" Esther said.

Olivia frowned as she made her way around the corridor, arms heavy laden with her large purse and bag of coffee beans.

"She _will_ see me today. The governor of this great state said I could stop by...that she told him I was welcome anytime. I've been out of town and now I'm back..."

Olivia rounded the corner into the lobby area of Euphoria, Inc, her ears perking up when she heard mention of the governor. Esther stood in front of a well-dressed man with slick wavy hair. Everything about this man looked manicured in the way televangelists present when they are fervently asking for money. He stopped speaking when she appeared. Esther gave her a pleading yet grateful look. Olivia flared her nostrils in frustration. How could Esther be so incompetent as a her PR chief? She was proficient but a far cry from what Olivia needed for her company. She was beginning to regret hiring her.

"What is the problem, sir? I don't believe we've met," Olivia said. She placed her purse on the receptionist's desk and set the Jitterations bag on the floor. Stepping forward, she extended her hand to the unknown man, wondering what he wanted and his connection to Governor Grant.

He grasped her hand in a firm shake. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I know you've been expecting me. I'm sorry for the delay, but I was in Virginia leading a conference for clergy. I'm here now and am so grateful you've agreed to work with us on the governor's behalf," he said.

 _This can't be Sanders from Morality Watch_ she thought. She knew the governor had to be bluffing when he asked her to be his surrogate. Olivia smiled hoping he would say more before she responded.

"The Lord is good, isn't he, bringing the world and the Kingdom of God together for the purpose of building up his church? One purpose. One love. I hope you have some time to talk with me today so we can get this deal done," he said cheerily, "Oh, and I know you already know this, but I'm Charles Sanders from Morality Watch."

Olivia's stomach turned in a mixture of surprise and anticipation. I just might get more coffee after all, she thought, surprising herself at the thought. First, she had to get rid of Mr. Sanders who had caught her completely off guard. Looking around, she realized that Esther was gone. It was then she made the decision to fire her.

Olivia leveled her gaze on him. "Mr. Sanders, I am brimming over with excitement to work with you, but today is not a good day," she said, deciding to try something with him. "I'll have my assistant call you to arrange another time. Let me get your wife a gift certificate. She can use it for our intimate products or to visit SpaBliss."

His smile dropped and his face fell, almost sullen, before it changed back. "That won't be necessary. I'll wait to hear from your assistant," he said with less enthusiasm. "Enjoy your day, Ms. Pope. Those coffee beans smell really nice."

As Olivia watched him leave, she felt bad. Hoping to goad him with her offer of Euphoria's products and services, she'd ended up offending him it seemed. Now she felt uncomfortable about his response. Was his wife deceased? Olivia pushed those thoughts aside as she grabbed her purse and Jitterations bag. She needed to see Fitzgerald Grant and put a stop to this nonsense.

* * *

Here she was again sitting in front of the governor's desk, this time without pretense or subterfuge. She was herself, Olivia Pope, here to extricate herself from this pretty pickle she'd gotten herself into all for the advancement of her company. Governor Fitzgerald Grant was leaning on his desk facing her with his arms crossed and his legs also crossed at the ankles. He was the picture of lazy confidence.

"Would you like some coffee, Olivia?"

Her heart fluttered. "Yes, I'd love some if it's what you made me that night...Sumatra blend...I'll have some while we discuss what you've done."

He leaned back and pushed the intercom on his phone. "Ms. Hanley, two coffees please, the good stuff."

He turned back around and smiled at her. "Two coffees coming up," he said.

Olivia shifted in her chair. She felt uncomfortable being in the room with him which made her mad despite her excitement about tasting the coffee again. "Governor Grant, thank you for the coffee, but please make no mistake. This is not a social call. You have to call off this charade. Charles Sanders showed up in my office yesterday morning ready to work with me. I am demanding that you put a stop to this," she said.

His smile didn't waver nor did it match his words. "You are in no position to demand anything from me after what you did. You can work with Sanders or be prepared to shut down and open up SpaBliss in another location."

Olivia jerked back. "What? Are you doing this because I resisted your sexual advances?"

He crossed and recrossed his ankles, his smile know a smirk. "I didn't make any sexual advances. No, this has nothing to do with me expressing a desire to get to know you better or saying that you were intriguing, Olivia. You made yourself crystal clear. You sell sex. You don't do sex. You're asexual. I've been in politics long enough to know how to play the odds. Any woman who'd go to those lengths...lying about her sexuality just to turn me away, is a waste of time, no matter how interesting you seem.

Olivia's heart was racing now. She was shocked at his words and angry that he was calling her a liar. She felt an almost irresistible urge to slap him hard across the face.

Two swift taps on the door and the entrance of Ms. Hanley into the room staved off the edge of her anger. "Everything is there, sir...cream...sugar...I brought a carafe," she said after he thanked her.

"I want it black," she said.

"Yes, I remember how you like it," he said.

She watched him prepare their coffee feeling deja vu from that other night. "Thank you," she said when he handed her the cup and saucer.

"So what do you think of Sanders? He's a strange bird, right? There's something not quite right with his wife. Maybe you can find out and we can use it to our advantage down the road," said Fitz.

Olivia breathed in the glorious aroma of the coffee. Her breathing slowed. The anger she felt for the governor was there, but pushed aside. She lifted the cup to her lips for the first heavenly sip. The warm liquid rolled down her tongue, engulfing it like a blanket. The liquid was warm but not too hot allowing her the pleasure of a long draw as both of her hands surrounded the cup.

When she opened her eyes, she saw him watching her intently. "Wow, you must really like that coffee," he said.

* * *

 **Dear Readers,**

 **It's been ages. Thanks for reading. I don't know what is going on with Liv and this coffee. Fitz gave up pretty quickly on getting to know Liv.**

 **Until the cursor stops blinking and words appear..**

 **~BP**


	5. Resolved

**Chapter 5**

 **Resolved**

* * *

Pity. That is how Olivia now regarded Abby. Before her unfortunate discovery of Abby having sex with Harrison and Quinn, Olivia had trusted and respected her colleague. Now she pitied her. She regarded Abby sitting across from her desk, eyes full of anguish, sorrow, and even shame, pleading for understanding. Olivia had nothing to give her.

It had been a month since the incident. Olivia had put off having this conversation for obvious reasons and because she was still trying to extricate herself from working for Fitzgerald Grant. At the beginning of this new month, Olivia pledged to get her professional and personal houses in order beginning with this personnel issue. Her last order of business was a meeting with Fitzgerald Grant. Today was the day of reckoning when she planned to end, once and for all, her connection to him. The only good thing that had come out of her dealings with him was the discovery of the coffee he'd served her the night he'd kidnapped her. The coffee was bliss, her secret bliss, that calmed her each morning and once during the day when she had her second cup.

"How did this happen, Abby? From what I could tell you and Harrison held a mild disdain for each other. How did you go from that to engaging in sex acts with him and another person! I'm at a complete loss of understanding. Harrison is married for God's sake. If his wife found out…if anyone else found out… it would open us up to liability and scandal—" Olivia said until Abby interjected.

"Olivia, I don't need a lecture," Abby said, "I…what I did was inexcusable and I am ashamed of how you found us like that on the premises. All I can say is that our quarreling was a sort of mask for our attraction. After Abiba performed the massage, something changed in me…in us. It was like we saw each other differently and could no longer pretend with the childish arguments. I think Quinn saw our attraction and was herself attracted to it. One night we were all working late and—"

"Stop, Abby. I really don't want details of how it started and how it continued. This is what I will say. I cannot control what you do or with whom you do it with on your own time, but you will stop this unprofessional behavior on company property and company time. I am reducing your salary by 10% for 90 days and removing you from the bonus entitlement. If there are no more incidents during this probationary time, I will reinstate your salary to its original amount and put you back into the bonus entitlement. The same penalties go for Harrison as well. Do you have any questions?" Olivia said sternly before taking a sip of her coffee.

"No, Olivia. I can assure you that I am committed to Euphoria, Inc. Nothing like this will happen again. I know my words are just words so I will show you with my actions. Thanks for not limiting my access, Olivia. I am thankful to able to continue my work," Abby said before leaving the office.

Thirty minutes later after giving Harrison the same tongue lashing, she asked him a personal question. "Have you told your wife about this? If not, do you plan to?" she asked.

Harrison swallowed, glanced away and then glanced back. "No, I have not told her about it and do not plan to. It was a mistake, Olivia. I don't want my marriage or my job compromised because of a mistake. Abby and I…and Quinn are no longer….it is over. I appreciate your willingness to give me another chance, and I am grateful I still have the same access as before and can continue my job as before," Harrison said, before leaving.

The energy and power dynamic seemed to change when Abiba Mashalaba entered the room with Quinn Perkins in tow. Quinn wouldn't make eye contact and didn't say one word.

Olivia began. "As you both know by now, Quinn along with Abby and Harrison have been having a sexual relationship. They engaged in sexual rendezvous during work hours and on the premises. I have admonished my employees and given them certain penalties for their actions. In light of Quinn's involvement, I don't think she should work at Spa Bliss. I am open to negotiating the penalties since Quinn is an apprentice."

"Ms. Pope, I agree that Abby, Harrison, and Quinn manifested their mutual desire in a reckless manner. However, I don't agree with your punitive methods. In the end, it may have disastrous consequences especially if Abby and Harrison don't get to the root of whatever is between them and resolve it. I've talked to Quinn about what happened and she admits to sensing their attraction and using it for selfish sexual gain. She exploited their vulnerability. She needs more training not penalties," Abiba explained.

"I appreciate your opinion, Abiba, but I do not agree. Some situations call for further training and some call for immediate action to stop the behavior. You can continue to train Quinn, but not in the context of Spa Bliss," Olivia said, looking straight at Abiba with narrowed eyes.

There was a hint of a smile on Abiba's face which angered Olivia. She greatly respected Abiba but increasing felt like a child playing grown up around her. "Is something amusing?" Olivia asked.

Abiba chuckled before speaking. "Yes," she said, "actually it is. I was just reminded of my nephew and his first car. It was an old chevy that ran very well. The only problem was a rusty spot on the trunk area below the window. After a while, he forgot about the rusty spot. One day, he took me for a ride. We passed by a car with a rusty spot on the trunk area below the window. He said, 'Auntie, look at that rusty car!' I frowned at him and said, 'You forgot didn't you.' After he realized what I meant. He started laughing. We both did. We laughed at how quickly he forgot about his own rust and started criticizing the same rust in another car."

Olivia gave her a blank stare. "Thanks, Abiba. Quinn," she said. Quinn walked out still refusing to make eye contact.

* * *

Olivia stood in front of the large wooden door. The last time she'd seen this door she had been reeling from the pain pulsating behind her eyes. This was the place he had taken her to get to the bottom of her deception. This was also the place he'd served her that first cup of delicious coffee. Had she considered the wisdom of meeting him here of all places? Was it a bad idea given the fact this was the place he had expressed interest in getting to know her better and proclaimed how intriguing she was? Olivia had considered all those facts, but one fact outweighed them all. She had successfully called him off and offended him in the process. And he insisted that they meet here. She wasn't going to argue especially since she was settled on doing whatever it took to get out of working for him.

She pushed the doorbell. After a couple of minutes, the door opened and there he was partially dressed in his usual work uniform, a crisp white button down shirt rolled up to the elbows. He wore a tie, blue slacks, and black oxfords. He acknowledged her presence with a nod since he was on a call. She stepped around him as he closed the door. Olivia was surprised to see a dozen other people in the apartment milling around like worker bees.

"Well, thank you, for the support, Senator Benson…." Fitz said before disconnecting the phone.

Olivia laughed to herself. Here she was questioning whether or not she should meet him here. This was essentially his office and they seemed to be doing some sort of phone banking probably to big donors. Olivia wasn't sure.

"Thanks for coming, Olivia. They will be leaving soon to take the phone banking to another location. Then we can talk. First I want you to meet my kids," Fitz said, "Karen and Gerry, please come here."

Two teenagers walked over at their father's bidding. Olivia had seen them on television once or twice, but this was the first time she really saw in person.

"This is Ms. Olivia Pope. She has agreed to work on the campaign," Fitz said.

"It is nice to meet you, Ms. Pope," Karen said.

"Thanks for your service," Gerry said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Olivia said. The introductions felt awkward to her. She felt out of place especially since she was not going to be working on the campaign. In fact she was there to end her connection.

After about 20 minutes, everyone was gone.

"Let's sit and chat. Have you made any progress with Sanders? I was thinking of some—" Fitz said.

"Governor Grant," Olivia said, lifting her hand, "I really need to stop you. Other than the first meeting with Sanders, I haven't worked with him. In fact, I haven't done anything with your campaign. I called this meeting today to ask you to reconsider. I neither have the time nor the desire to work on your campaign. I have been…pretending this last month."

Fitz crossed his arms and sighed. Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee, wine?" he asked.

"Coffee would be nice," she said.

"I heard you've really…taken to my coffee," he said.

Olivia didn't quite know how to respond to that. How could he know that? Was he deliberately goading her? She followed him into the kitchen intent on continuing the conversation so she could make her exit sooner than later.

"I cannot work for you Governor Grant. I am here…I called this meeting to convince you to reconsider. I hope we can come up with some kind of agreement to resolve our differences. I hope you can understand my plight. I am a business owner and not a political operative," Olivia said.

The smell of brewing coffee filled the space. Fitz pulled out two cups and saucers, creamer, and sugar. "So you are saying you can't work for me, but you are willing to agree to some other way to make up for what you did?" Fitz clarified before loosening his tie.

"Yes, I think we can compromise. What can I do to resolve this quickly and quietly in a way that is mutually agreeable?" Olivia asked.

Fitz poured her coffee and placed it in front of her before taking a seat across from her. They sipped silently for a time. He loosened his tie all the way, but didn't remove it. This man was a complete puzzle to her like those 5000 piece puzzles with a nice landscape one would admire from afar as someone else's work and keep on walking. Unfortunately, she had crossed him and was having a difficult time undoing that. But why? Why was he giving her such a difficult time?

"I really don't know how we can compromise, Olivia."

"I have an idea that is in keeping with something you suggested the last time I was here, but it comes with a modification," she offered.

He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. "Please enlighten me because I know it can't be what I think you are thinking," he said.

She took another sip of coffee. "You said you found me interesting and wanted to get to know me. Well, if I have sex with you, will you consider this resolved and leave me alone?" Olivia said.

Fitz laughed out loud. "What? You must be joking. You told me you didn't do sex…what was it you are…asexual? I am very skeptical about this extreme change. I don't trust it, Olivia," he said.

"You don't have to trust it. We are not entering into a relationship. This is a transaction that's older than mud. Disregard what I told you previously. I think you find me…I know you are attracted to me. Let's have sex," she said.

"But what about you being asexual?" He asked.

"Disregard that too," she said.

Fitz leaned in and looked at her closely. "You are serious, aren't you?" Fitz asked.

"Very serious," she said.

"Okay, then we have a deal," Fitz said. He stuck out his hand and they shook on it.

"Let's schedule it sooner rather than later. We are both busy people so…"

"Right. Okay…but I have a problem. I don't have my schedule with me. How about I get back with you on a date and time. Is that okay with you?" Fitz asked.

"Okay, that sounds fine. I'll look forward to your call then," said Olivia.


	6. Little House on the Prairie

**Chapter 6**

 **Little House on the Prairie**

* * *

This particular walk was always a long one. Was it because the path, in a figurative sense, led Olivia directly to places she didn't want to go? Thankfully, she didn't have to do this often. Visits to her psychiatrist were as rare as a five leaf clover. Today was a rare day. Olivia's bold move from last night dictated it. By the time she had traversed the maze from her car through the foyer of the glass gilded high rise and onto the elevator, she was ready for this session, ready to politely ignore Dr. Chase's suggestions that she come to sessions more often. That might make more sense to some, considering she paid Dr. Chase monthly for visits she rarely used. Olivia lived by her own brand of what made made sense.

"Olivia, it is nice to see you," said Dr. Chase, extending his hand to hers after she walked into his office, "I was pleasantly surprised to get your call last evening that you would be in for a session today."

Olivia smiled and grasped his large cool hands. "I'm glad you were available on such short notice," she said, taking a seat across from him on the familiar leather sofa.

Dr. Chase smiled and his eyes twinkled in that way of his that gave her much comfort. He reminded her of Charles Ingalls even though his mane of thick black hair had long since greyed and his face held the landscape of a well-worn path. When she visited him as a child, more regularly than she did as an adult, Olivia would imagine she was traveling to Walnut Grove to see the Ingalls family and sometimes to be Laura Ingalls. It was her escape from the sadness of her home after everyone knew her secret. Those days of childhood fantasies were over. She was no longer a child, and this was not "Little House on the Prairie."

"Olivia, I always leave an hour open for you each day I see clients. It is appropriate as you have me on a sort of retainer. I wish you would come more often or at least stop paying for all those sessions you don't attend," Dr. Chase said, though he knew his words were making no impact.

He grabbed his notepad and settled back in his chair. "So, what brings you in today?" he asked.

Olivia removed her jacket and slowly folded it lapel to lapel before draping it over the back of the sofa and smoothing it down. She set her bag on the other side of the sofa as if it needed its own space. Next, she propped her hand on the arm of the sofa and rested her head on her fist.

"I am going to have sexual intercourse," she said.

Dr. Chase lifted a bushy eyebrow and scribbled something on the notepad. "Despite your grave tone Olivia, this seems encouraging, but you think it isn't? You've met someone?"

Olivia lightly brushed the soft leather of the sofa's armrest and then shook her head. "No, Dr. Chase. I am not in an intimate relationship with anyone. I'm doing this for Euphoria. I've analyzed the options, and having sex is the only way I can move forward and beyond this situation. I need to process so…I'm here," she explained.

Dr. Chase made a few more notes and tilted his head before focusing his stare on her. "Olivia, you will need to give me more details. It would be terrible for me to assume anything. I know the nature of your business so the only thing I can guess is that you plan to star in a pornographic movie?"

Olivia chuckled, instantly feeling less tense. Dr. Chase knew how put her at east, to create the conditions to make her more forthcoming, which was one reason why she limited her sessions. "Someone stood in the way of a recent business venture at Euphoria. I tricked this person and was able to remove the barrier. The person found out and decided to force me to make amends by working with him. Instead, I offered to have sex with him if he would leave me alone," she explained.

"Go on… since there are still major holes in the narrative" Dr. Chase said.

Olivia reached for her purse and pulled out a pack of gum. After taking a piece, she offered the pack to Dr. Chase. He nodded and said, "No, thank you."

She chewed, loathing the loud sounds her chewing made in her ear, but she needed the gum to make it through the session. It grounded her in some strange way, kept her from leaving. It would be nice to have some coffee now, but it wasn't feasible.

"Dr. Chase, I'm pretty certain this man is interested in me. Well, he told me as much…said he found me—Olivia threw up air quotes—intriguing and wanted to get to know me better. His interest is not genuine or genuinely about me. It's just because of what I do, what I sell that has him so interested. He is a very high profile politician who is months away from being reelected. He's not interested in a relationship with me. I think he wants a thrill. So…I told him I was asexual to get him to back off. Unfortunately, he wouldn't leave me alone and insisted I work for him. I had the idea of offering him what he wanted, sex. He agreed so here I am," Olivia explained.

Dr. Chase scribbled frantically on his notepad before setting it down. He leaned forward and made a pyramid with his fingers, pressing the summit to his nose.

"Do you plan to follow through…have sexual intercourse with this politician?" Dr. Chase asked, but continued on without her response. "because if you are it is…Wow, Olivia. This is very interesting news. No…interesting is not the right word. I would say incredible. Considering your history. particularly surrounding sexuality, this is a breakthrough. For you to initiate sex is remarkable—"

Olivia lifted her hands. "You misunderstand, Dr. Chase," she said, slightly raising her voice, "This is not remarkable and doesn't mean that I feel anything remotely like sexual desire for this man. I'm doing this for my business. But I did have a breakthrough I'd like to share with you. I am now convinced that my lack of sexual desire has nothing to do with the molestation. Yes, the trauma of it affected me deeply, obviously but I am realizing I would have been like this even if I hadn't been molested …" she explained.

Dr. Chase frowned. "I must interject. It had a profound impact on you, Olivia…your emotional growth and development. You've made great strides. They way you mentioned, just now, that you've been molested as a fact without all the pain. That took years of work, but you haven't had any significant lasting relationships and…unless something has changed…been sexually active…"

Olivia felt open and ready to unload her newfound revelations. "Because I have chosen to focus on my career…that is the reason. Those have been my decisions made deliberately and I think think I made them subconsciously because I am asexual. I recently hired a sex therapist who is asexual. She helps women achieve orgasm through orgasmic massage. Being asexual gives her an edge. She is not subject to the same vulnerabilities and clouded judgment in her job in the same way she would be if she were not asexual. That is why I've been so successful with Euphoria. My asexuality helps me to see past the baggage of sex. That clarity has helped me to thrive in my business and in life," Olivia explained.

She was sure Dr. Chase did not agree, but she continued.

"I have the perfect illustration. I had to reprimand two of my executives and a recent hire for becoming entangled in a sexual relationship. Apparently Abby and Harrison harbored a buried sexual attraction that manifested initially as dislike. Another employee recognized that and was able to convince them to have sex together with her," Olivia said, shaking her head in pity, "Harrison is married. Abby is committed to Euphoria. I don't know the other employee so I have to attribute her lapse in judgment to the fog of sexual stupidity. For years, I have accepted my frigidity as a symptom of the molestation. Now, I think it is who I am on a deeper level."

Dr. Chase picked up his notepad and resumed writing. When he glanced at her, Olivia didn't see what she wanted in his expression. She saw compassion instead of understanding.

"Olivia, I am happy that you feel you have a sort of…answer or rationale for your sexual problems…er…shall I sexual choices. I think it is healthy for you to be reflective, using the situations around you as parables for yourself. With that said, I would recommend you see me twice a week," he said.

Olivia frowned. "Twice a week? Why?" she said.

"I think it is premature for me to—" Dr. Chase said.

"Please…" she said, sternly.

"Considering you might not be back to see me; it behooves me to give my initial assessments. Well, for you to offer your body in this way to this person tells me there is something about him you are attracted to or he symbolizes something that you are attracted to. I'm not sure if the attraction is sexual, but there is something there. Only you know what it is, Olivia. I think you need to face what that is and embrace it since it could lead to a turning point in your life. I can't speak to the validity or non validity of you begin asexual. It is not my area, really. I can say that sexuality is complex, more than just biology. It involves many aspects that interplay. I don't agree that the sexual trauma you experienced as a child and your current sexual choices are unrelated. Since I treated you for it, I know they are related. I can strongly suggest you see me twice a week whether you go through with this sexual transaction or not," Dr. Chase advised.

Olivia stood, grabbed her bag, and jacket. "Dr. Chase, thanks for your time," she said with a wan smile.

Dr. Chase stood as well. He extended his hands cocooning Olivia's inside of his and smiling warming. "Olivia, would this high profile politician be Governor Fitzgerald Grant?"

Olivia's eyes widened in shock, but she recovered. "Y-yes, why?"

"Just curious. It gives me some context. I hope to see you in two days," Dr. Chase said, hopefully.

Olivia walked away and slipped out of the door retracing that long path back to her car.

* * *

"Fitz, I don't like that look you are giving me. What is it?" Cyrus said. He set his eyes on Fitz and waited.

Fitz leaned back, heads behind his head, legs outstretched, and his oxford laden feet propped on his desk. It was almost 7 and he was ready to head home right after he talked to Cyrus. "Well, I'm about to start dating someone…someone who will not meet with your approval. You are going to question my reasons and do everything in your power to convince me against dating her because it may hurt my chances to get reelected. I, in response, won't be convinced and despite your protests will move forward. I will say that I want to get to know this person better and am interested in her in the way any red blooded male is interested in a woman. I'm not thinking about remarriage. I'm a man who wants the company of a woman he finds interesting and attractive. Incidentally, I'm a man who is a governor. I've served faithfully in my first term and will do the same if I am reelected. What I won't do is let people's perceptions prevent me from doing something I want to do."

Cyrus rose form his chair and swiped his hand through his hair. "Who is this woman, Fitz? All of your window dressing is making me nervous," Cyrus said.

"Olivia Pope," Fitz said. He couldn't contain his smile as he waited for Cyrus's response.

"What? Olivia Pope? The sex toy company CEO? The one who bamboozled you! With all due respect sir, I don't have to tell you how this will hurt your chances for reelection. You need to be thinking about potential partners who are marriage material! Could you imagine what the press is going to do with this? We have this election in the bag. Just a couple of short months…"

Fitz didn't say a word. He figured he'd give Cyrus the space to launch a fifteen minute tirade before he left there to go home.

* * *

Olivia leaned over the claw footed tub and tested the water under the jets. It was the right temperature. She poured in a drop of argan oil and a cap full of milk bath salts. Reaching the end of the financial report, she smiled as she turned the page to the bottom line. In the last 30 days, Spa Bliss had made a sizable profit.

She jumped at the sound of her cell phone's ring so absorbed in the private joy of her success. Laying the report on the sink and wiping her hand on her terrycloth robe, she answered.

"Hello," she said.

"Ms. Pope, this is Abiba. I'm sorry to call you after hours, but I have an important issue I must address with you," she said.

"It's fine to call me anytime Abiba. Remember to call me Olivia, though. What is the problem?" Olivia said. She walked to the tub and shut off the jets.

"I want to reduce the capacity of Spa Bliss. My staff and I are reaching the limit of what we can provide at a quality of service..."

"Do we need to hire more staff?" Olivia asked.

"No. We need to reduce how many appointments we take in a day. I recommend we reduce and reevaluate after 6 months. This is such delicate work, Ms. Pope. We don't want to become a drive by," said Abiba.

"I respect your opinion and remember you mentioning a similar problem at Lotus. Before I make any decisions, we need to have an executive meeting. I want to hear more about your concerns. Are you okay with meeting early next week?" Olivia said. Had this been any other employee, Olivia would have immediately disagreed. Abiba was different. She commanded a different kind of respect and regard. This was something Olivia admired.

"Yes, Ms. Pope. I'll wait to hear from your assistant," Abiba said, "Good evening."

"Good evening," Olivia said.

Olivia tested the bath water again. She hoped she could change Abiba's mind. She vowed to be open to hearing her rationale for reducing capacity. Abiba was the expert. Evidentally women were flocking to Spa Bliss for that peculiar feeling of the orgasm. Olivia wondered what an orgasm felt like. Her 8th grade sex education teacher had described it like the feeling of peeing after holding it in for a long while. She'd also heard it described as the sensation of sneezing magnified by 1000. Olivia opened her terry cloth robe and placed it on the silver hook. Catching sight of the reflection of her naked body in the floor length mirror, she stopped to have a look, imagining what the governor would think when he saw her naked. Her breasts were not quite tiny but small, a good hand full. They were a hand full for her, but probably less for him since his hands were bigger. She grasped her breasts, pushing them up and together. She pouted at herself for effect. She released her breasts and let her eyes travel to the patch of thick pubic hair at the juncture of her thighs. Combing her fingers through it, she wondered if she should trim it or cut if all off. The women in the videos she'd watched periodically for field research usually sported smooth bare pubic areas. Olivia grasped a tuft of the hair and pulled it taut.

"Wow, maybe a trim should be in order," she said, "Since I've never cut it before…"

Olivia spun around and viewed her body from behind. She posed, hugging herself and imagining her hands as Fitz's. She agreed that her body shape was her best asset. Since she was slightly pear shaped, fat didn't collect around her upper body, back and waist. It went straight to her butt and thighs, though there wasn't enough there to characterize her as hippy. Her mother assured her it was coming if she ever had children or when she got older. Suddenly remembering a scene from a porno she'd watched, she bent over and touched her ankles as much as she could. She craned her neck around to see her vagina in the movie from this view, realizing that she'd never seen it quite this way. In the movie, a man penetrated the woman from behind while she sucked another man's enormous penis. When Olivia pulled the lips open between her legs, she was amazed at all the pink skin, shiny with moisture. Some of the moisture was white and thick like cream. When she tried to investigate, she loss balance and fell hard on her hip. The fall was painful and jarring. She hobbled over to the water and gingerly lowered herself into the water. In that moment, she decided that she would not let Fitz see her body when they had sex. Instead, she would play into his probable fantasies, the ones she imagined he shared with all men. She would be in control. Maybe she'd just take him into her mouth and let him ejaculate there. Frowning at the thought, she felt a little nauseous making a mental note to look into an inconspicuous dental dam. She'd hide it under the covers and he would be none the wiser.

Later, Olivia heard ringing, but she was confused. Where was it coming from? Where was she? When the inside of her bathroom came into view, she realized she had fallen asleep in the tub. The phone continued ringing.

"Okay! Okay! I'm coming! I'm coming!" Olivia chanted, rising from the tub, sloshing water over the sides.

Her calla lily shaped clock read 8:30. Who was calling at this hour? It had to be someone from work. Receiving a social call was rare for Olivia.

"H-hello," she said, drying off briskly.

"Good evening, Olivia. Is this a good time to talk?" asked Fitz.

Olivia's heart gave one distinct pound. She was shocked to hear from him, though she knew he would be calling at some point. "N-n-no, this is fine," she said, biting her lip to stop her stammering.

"Great. I was due to call you so we could arrange a time to meet," he said.

"Yes, of course. I know of a discrete location near Toco Hills—" she offered.

"Olivia, let's talk about that. Now that 24 hours have passed, do you really want to meet me and have sex? One and done? I'd rather us get together for a nice dinner at my townhome, the same place you've been twice before. I would love to take you out in public, but I think we'd be more comfortable in a low profile setting this first time so—" Fitz said.

Olivia planted her hand on her hip as if she were standing in front of him. "Wait…did you say first date?" Olivia asked, her voice rising slightly.

"Yes, first date…implying a second if things go well. I realize your offer of sex was your way of…actually…I don't know what that was. I hope you don't think I am one of those politicians looking for a quick lay. I am not. I am decent…relatively," he said before a brief chuckle.

Olivia sneered at his attempt at flirting. She was two seconds away from ending the call. She had been anticipating this call for a day, looking forward to setting a date. All this build up just to find out that he was being disingenuous the entire time. Anger and something else she couldn't quite name permeated her body. As she held the phone, listening to his breathing she recognized the other feeling as disappointment. _Why in the world do I want to have sex with this idiot?_ she thought.

"Send…send me a date, location, and time. I'll meet you…I'll meet you there. I have to go," she mumbled.

"Like I said, the location is my townhome and—"

Olivia disconnected the line and powered off the phone in case he called back. She jerked open the cabinet drawer and pulled out an unopened pack of trident gum. Chewing angrily, she wished she had remembered to buy more coffee.


	7. Business Personal

**Chapter 7**

 **Business Personal**

* * *

Olivia's favorite time of day was the morning. The transition from night to dawn, the light blotting out the darkness of the previous night, brought a newness that she began counting on when she was a young girl. It had been years since she needed the light to block the dark blot of pain she had experienced then. Now the morning gave her a daily chance to do everything right whether it was a day at work or a day alone reading. Today there was work to do.

Olivia loved routines just as much as she loved mornings. He morning routine was the most elaborate. It began with her alarm of birds chirping. She never hit the snooze button. There was no need for snoozing as she always set her clock to alarm at the exact time she needed to rise. After silencing the alarm, she removed her sleep mask and placed it inside the drawer of her bedside table. She stood beside the bed and reached for her yoga mat, after folding back the blindingly white sheets and comforter. She rolled out the mat on the floor and stretched her extremities and core for exactly 15 minutes. Upon stowing her yoga mat, she walked to the bedside table on the other side and reached for the glass filled with 12 ounces of tepid water garnished with a lemon wedge. After squeezing the lemon over the water, she drank it in 6 slow draws. Thereafter, she made her bed and opened her curtains. By then, like a preset clock, her system was ready for its routine bowel movement. Olivia continued, taking a hot shower, the last 5 minutes of which ended with frigid cold water. Next, she brushed, flossed, and rinsed her teeth and mouth followed by the moisturizing routine for her face and body. The last items on her agenda were her hair, the application of very light makeup, and getting dressed.

On this particular morning, her routine was interrupted before she could begin making the breakfast she had each morning, spinach and egg white omelet with a small cup of steel cut oats. While eating, she would read each of the morning newspapers and check the e-mail and bank accounts. Olivia didn't make coffee until it was time to leave, intending to sip it most of the morning. When she was done, she would make another batch.

As she removed the skillet from the cabinet, there was a knock on her door followed by a ringing of her doorbell. Olivia set the skillet on the stove and stilled herself. No one ever visited her at home. She didn't have friends to show up unannounced. There was no immediate family living in New York to bother her with impromptu visits. Olivia racked her brain as to the source of the 6:45 intrusion. The doorbell rang again, this time followed by a male voice that said, "This is Pete Manchester from Capital Couriers with a package for Ms. O. Pope. Please ma'am. I have an I.D. I would leave the package, but the client requests a signature."

Olivia frowned but walked slowly to the door to investigate. She peeked through the peep hole and saw the image of a white man with red hair and glasses. He wore a polo shirt with a logo she couldn't quite make out and khakis.

"Who is the sender?" Olivia asked, leaning against the door.

"Oh, Ma'am thanks for answering. I don't have a name, but there is a number you can call to verify. Can I give it to you? You can call it right now. Just let me know when you are ready for the number," Pete said eagerly.

Olivia padded back to the kitchen and grabbed her phone. That's when she had a strong sense this package involved Fitzgerald Grant, though she wasn't 100 percent sure.

"Okay, I'm ready. Give me the number," Olivia said.

"555-1258," said Pete.

"Thank you. I am dialing now," said Olivia.

"Good morning, Olivia," said Fitz.

"Hold on," she said, curtly, her suspicions confirmed.

Olivia opened the door to Pete, a relieved expression on his face. He presented her with a clipboard and pointed to the first line. "Sign here please," he said.

Olivia signed as "Anne Shirley."

"Thank you," he said. The courier turned and picked up a cylinder shaped tin. An envelope was taped to the top. Olivia took it from him and shut the door. She set the tin on the foyer table and peeled off the card.

 _Your presence is requested_

 _tonight, 6:30 pm_

 _at my condo._

 _A little pick me up. Enjoy._

 _FG_

Then she opened the tin. It was filled with 4 bags of her favorite coffee beans. She breathed in its heavenly, earthy scent. She couldn't contain the smile that appeared on her lips. All thoughts of breakfast went out the window. She wanted to taste some of this coffee. That was when she remembered her caller on the phone.

"Fitzgerald?" she said, picking up her phone, "Are you still there?"

"Yes. I'm here. I hope I didn't disrupt your morning too much, Olivia. Last night you told me to send you the time and location so I arranged the courier. Should I send a car for you this evening?" he said.

"How did you know where I lived?" she asked.

"Maybe I'll tell you tonight," he said.

Olivia could hear the smile in his voice. This angered her.

"Governor Grant, I—" she said.

"Fitzgerald…" he said.

"Your call last night and this gesture of yours this morning…even the tone of your voice is dripping with patronizing self-satisfaction. I think we have established that I deceived you to protect my own business interests. As a politician, you can understand that. I cannot work for you so I offered you what I knew you wanted—"

"Sex, Olivia. You think that is what I want from you?" Fitz said.

Olivia didn't immediately answer. She couldn't for the exasperation that racked her. Walking back to the kitchen, she placed the coffee tin on the marble counter and began preparing her morning brew.

"I hope you like the coffee," he said after a while.

"Yes, thank you. I searched for the coffee but was unsuccessful. I didn't have the full name," she said.

"You should have called me, and I would have told you it would be next to impossible to find it in the states since I had it shipped from Indonesia. I visited there with some other governors and enjoyed the best tasting coffee I'd ever sipped. The farmer promised to send me a fresh supply whenever I wanted, provided I pay for the shipping. What you have in the tin is the last of my supply," he explained.

Olivia wanted to grind the new beans but she wouldn't have time. The small stream of coffee brewed from the grounds she had left dripped into her coffee tumbler. The calmness she usually felt in morning was replaced by discomfort.

"What do you want from me, Fitzgerald? If it is not sex, then what is it?" Olivia asked, impatiently.

"I want to get to know you. Despite your subterfuge, Olivia, I like you. It is simple. No ulterior motives involved," he said.

She smiled for the second time that morning. "You like me and want to get to know me. We will have dinner tonight and that will be it?" she said.

"We won't know the answer to that question until tonight. I hope now you don't think I'm being patronizing or self-satisfied," he said.

"I must end our call because I have to get to work. I'll see you this evening, and I have my own driver," she said before disconnecting the call.

* * *

"At the end of the day, this is a business. We are trying to make a profit. Limiting capacity at Spa Bliss is not advisable especially since we are doing very well, better than projected…and we haven't been open for 60 days!" argued Harrison.

"I agree with Harrison. With all due respect, Abiba, we should wait until at least 90 days have passed before we consider this," said Abby.

Olivia took a sip of coffee and looked to Abibia. "Abiba, do we have the survey results from the clients? Are they complaining about our services?" she asked.

"The satisfaction surveys are solidly good. As I said at the start of this meeting, the problem is with the access. Spa Bliss is too accessible. We need a screening process before we accept clients," Abiba explained.

Before Olivia spoke she took another sip of coffee and observed everyone in the room. Abiba's argument wasn't compelling enough for Olivia to give any further thought to the request. It seemed that Abiba knew this by the look of resignation on her face. She wasn't making a good a case in the way Olivia had come to expect from her. Olivia sensed there was another reason Abiba wanted to reduce the client base, but she couldn't identify it or why Abiba seemed not quite herself. On the other hand, Abby and Harrison were confident, the paragons of professionalism. No one would have guessed they had received a reprimand for engaging in reckless sexual behavior.

"I called this meeting to address your concerns, Abiba. I even pushed the meeting up to today instead of waiting until next week, but you haven't presented any plausible reason for reducing capacity that can be measured. There is no reason to reduce capacity unless there is something you haven't shared…" Olivia said.

"No, that is all," said Abiba.

Abby and Harrison looked relived and vindicated. The meeting continued with more routine business. At the end, Olivia wondered if she should speak to Abiba alone but decided against it especially since Abby lingered after everyone else filed out. Olivia noticed and remembered how they used to chat after meetings, sometimes grabbing lunch. They hadn't done this since Olivia reprimanded her.

Once everyone left, Abby set in the chair facing Olivia's desk. "Olivia, we haven't spoken in a while. How have you been?" Abby asked, "If you don't mind me asking.

Olivia looked up from her computer screen somewhat surprised by the wistfulness in Abby's voice. "Me? I've been the same as always. You know me, Abby, I'm like clockwork," said Olivia.

"That's good? Are you doing anything tonight? Would you like to get some dinner together? We could do Michaela's on 4th or Dominick's on Broad Street.

"I have a da… er…meeting this evening. Let's get lunch tomorrow instead," Olivia offered. Despite catching herself, she could see that Abby caught her slip by her widened eyes and forward lean.

"You have a date, Liv? When did this happen? I know we haven't talked but a date? Wow," Abby said, "that's great."

Olivia saw the excited look on Abby's face. _Why does the thought of me on a date make her this happy?_ Olivia thought. Though the thought ran through her mind, she already knew. Few people understood why she, purveyor of sensual delights, didn't have a significant other or lover. Olivia suspected that those who cared to speculate probably thought she had adventurous sexual tastes that were shrouded in secrecy. She rarely thought about it. She didn't have to except twice a year, once on her birthday when her parents visited and a second time during Christmas when she made her obligatory visit to them. Abby and occasionally her driver, Ben, would chide her about her love life or lack thereof.

Olivia began straightening items on her desk that were already organized and in their assigned location. "I didn't quite squash the incident with Governor Grant like I thought so to finally put it to bed…" Olivia said, hesitating and frowning at her unfortunate choice of words, "resolve it. I'm having dinner with him tonight at his request. I am confident that, after this meeting, I'll be done with him."

Olivia glanced up to Abby's expression that couldn't be described as anything but delighted.

"You like him. I cannot believe it, Liv," said Abby with a grin she hadn't had in her boss's presence since the reprimand.

Olivia considered Abby as if she were a child who still believed in the tooth fairy. "And how did you arrive at that conclusion, Abby," Olivia said, before sighing and crossing her arms across her chest.

"I don't have as much evidence to support my conclusion since you never discussed your plan to thwart the moratorium with me. I've never spoken to the Governor Grant or seen you two together, but I can tell you are nervous. You double down on your anal tendencies when you are nervous or unsettled…organizing your desk. Then you slipped and almost called it a date and noticed the pun you made about 'putting it to bed'. I know you, Liv. Everything you do is intentional so—" said Abby.

Olivia frowned. "Abby, despite your recent gross lapse in judgement, I respect your opinion. You've shown an admirable dedication to Euphoria. We've worked together closely and it is natural, perhaps even essential, that we have a certain collegiality. I hope you don't mistake that for friendship. We are not friends. My personal life is off limits to you and anyone else I work with. Your comments have crossed the line. If it happens again, I'll have to revisit the terms of your reprimand," she explained, firmly.

"I-I'm sorry, Olivia. I…," Abby said, with a look of shock, but she adjusted quickly. "Yes, certainly, Olivia. It won't happen again. D-Do you mind if I take these brochures to submit your changes."

"No, please, please take them," Olivia said, with a slight smile as if she was trying to soften the blow of her gut punch.

* * *

"Do you think you hurt Abby's feelings when you responded to her in that way? asked Dr. Chase.

Olivia moved the wad of trident gum—The flavor was cinnamon—from the left to the right side of her mouth and between her back molars. She chewed, comforted by the secession of small pops from the gum. She didn't like chewing gum in front of others, but she needed it now.

"From the way she looked, yes, she was hurt by it, Dr. Chase, but Abby knows me. I'm not that person…friendly and gushing, engaging in girl talk. We are both single. She dates but isn't serious with anyone. Both of our families live outside of New York and neither of us of have close friends. Truthfully, I don't have any friends. She does but doesn't mention them often. We are both committed to our jobs," said Olivia.

"For someone who isn't close to you…not your friend…you sure know a lot about her," said Dr. Chase. "How did you feel when she said you liked the governor and begin to justify her reasons?"

"First, I thought it was an incorrect assessment. Then I knew it was inappropriate to say what she said. Then I was compelled as her superior to address it—" Olivia said.

"Not what you thought or knew, Olivia, but how did you feel?" Dr. Chase pressed.

Olivia stopped chewing and spat out her gum in the small waste bin. "I don't see how that has anything to do with why I am here. My exchange with Abby was business," Olivia said.

"The reason for your visit today is personal then? Your date tonight with the governor is personal? In what way? Was it personal or business when you were going to have sex with him? Now that you are not having sex is it personal?" he asked with genuine curiosity, his pen poised and ready.

Olivia was totally flummoxed. "I don't know, Dr. Chase," she said, "That is why I am here."

* * *

Olivia would have given a mint to have a piece of trident gum now. She stood outside of Fitz's townhouse. It was nearly 7 and she had waved Ben away. She'd agonized over whether to be punctual or fashionably tardy. After an hour of deliberation, she'd decided on fashionably late so as not to give the appearance of over eagerness. Standing at his door, she wondered if being on time would have been more appropriate to show that she was treating this like a business meeting of sorts. A gush of air spilled from her lungs and she took a couple of breaths.

 _Shit, Abby was right about one thing. I am nervous_ , she thought.

Olivia didn't entertain Abby's other assertion that she liked Fitzgerald as there was no way she could like someone she didn't really know.

 _But what is 'like' anyway? I have many likes. And isn't any well-adjusted person predisposed to like everyone unless given a reason not to? Like is a default emotion, right? Liking someone is really quite benign almost lukewarm? So to say I like him is like saying the earth is a planet. It's quite obvious,_ Olivia thought.

She changed from one foot to the other realizing she'd have to ring the doorbell soon. Besides the fact time was moving, she couldn't stand in heels on concrete indefinitely. Her attire was bland in her opinion. It was a simple sheath dress that fell right at her knee. The only nice touch were the gathers at the neck that met just above her cleavage. When she leaned forward, there were no worries of revealing anything not that she was endowed enough in the chest for that to matter. The dress was a deep, vibrant purple so it wasn't bland in color only in style.

Olivia took a step forward onto the mat. She raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open as if she'd tricked some secret unlock code. That is when it happened. Something inside of her opened when the door opened and she saw Fitz standing there in a dark suit and crisp with shirt, no tie, brandishing a bouquet of purple freesias that perfectly complimented her dress. She got goose bumps as if a breeze had snuck under her jacket. It wasn't a chill, but a frisson. The unfamiliar sensation caused her breath to catch in her throat

"Good Evening, Olivia. Fashionably late I see… I couldn't stand behind the closed door any longer waiting for you to knock. These are for you. I hope you like freesias," he said, pushing them to her.

Olivia took the flowers from his grasp, but she couldn't lift her legs, unfortunate when you had the sudden urge to run. It was as if she had agreed to take a ride on a roller coaster and upon rolling away from the attendant, was now having second thoughts. Now she was ascending to the top before the first drop at the point of no return.

Fitz smiled down at her and took her hand. She willed herself to say, "Thank you," and let him lead her inside.


	8. Twilight Zone

**Chapter 8**

 **Twilight Zone**

* * *

Olivia loosened her grip on the long stemmed glass. It was nearly empty of the wine Fitzgerald had poured her. It was a dark red, full bodied pinotage as he had explained when she mistook it for a pinot noir. Olivia hadn't cared what type of wine it was as long as it calmed her anxiety ridden nerves. To remove the unsettled feeling that had consumed her when she arrived at his door was the priority. The wine had done its job, taking the edge off her anxiety. Usually she steered clear of dark wines for fear they would trigger a migraine. Tonight, however, she'd chosen wine when he offered her a beverage.

She set the glass on the granite countertop, her eyes boring into his back as his muscles moved underneath his suit jacket. He stood at the sink rinsing the mixed greens in a stainless steel colander. Olivia wondered if he prepared their meal or if his salad making was orchestrated to give the appearance he was the preparer.

 _Who cooks in a suit? And why would he want to impress me?_ she thought, continuing to unabashedly assess his appearance from the back while wasn't looking.

Even though he was a couple of feet away, his presence filled the room. He was taller than she was but sitting at the counter on the high stool gave the illusion that they were much closer in height. The bottom of his suit jacket moved against his rear end as he shook the colander. She wanted to see this view of him without the suit jacket, how the fabric hung on his long form. The subtle fragrance of his cologne competed with the mouthwatering aroma of whatever was on the menu. What would he do if she encircled him with her arms around his waist and rested her chin in the crook of his neck? Would he be startled at her brazenness or would he turn around and give her that self-satisfied look of his before leaning forward to kiss her, his wet cold hands chilling her warm neck.

"Would you like more wine, Olivia?" he said turning his head slightly to look her way.

Startled, she jumped at his words, snatched out of her daydreaming. Perhaps the wine wasn't the best idea. Had it mellowed her out too much? She was there but obviously in an unfamiliar fog. Why was she thinking about him in this way? Sex was off the table and so should her thoughts. She set up a little straighter on the stool and decided to decline more wine and ask for coffee since she now needed something to take the edge off her apparent buzz.

She opened her mouth to answer but unintended words escaped. "Yes, please," she said, frowning at herself.

"I knew you'd like the taste of it based on your love of the coffee. It is a South African grape but it is also harvested in California," he said. Turning around with the lettuce filled colander and a towel, he walked to her and set it down across from her on the counter. After wiping his hands, he removed his suit jacket.

"I do like the flavor. It is fruity and rich. I don't usually drink reds, though…migraines," she answered, calmly, though her heartbeat elevated slightly when he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of the high backed stool.

"Oh yes…I remember how you suffered with one that first night I…um…brought you here," he said, with a slight grin, "but the coffee and a little rest helped to relieve it."

When he reached across the counter for her empty glass, Olivia willed her eyes to stay trained on anything but him as he walked back across the kitchen floor to the counter where the wine bottle rested. Since her thoughts and words were unpredictable tonight, she didn't want to look at him knowing where her eyes would surely land. Olivia looked anyway, beginning at his wavy hair. She lingered for a second catching sight of the small amount of skin visible between his hairline and collar. His broad shoulders tapered down to his waist bordered by a black leather belt. Her eyes drifted lower taking in his slightly rounded cheeks of his derriere moving in tandem against the fabric. His clothes weren't tight but they fit in the way only tailored clothes could as if they had been made to encase his body only. It gave her an accurate assessment of how his body was shaped under his clothing. She liked it. She couldn't decide which she found the most alluring, his shoulders, backside, or legs. Perhaps it was the combination of them all working together that won out.

"A couple of months ago, I read a study on migraines. They are pretty mysterious. The actress from _Friends_ , Lisa…Lisa Kudrow…her father is a doctor who specializes in headache treatment. I heard her talking on NPR about it too…the more they learn the more they need to learn. Treatment is sort of hit or miss and different for each person…" he said.

Olivia heard the words he was saying, but she was more concerned with where her eyes would fall when he turned around.

 _Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What the hell is wrong with me?_ Olivia wanted to see his front, particularly his crotch and how his clothes fit from that angle. It would be unfortunate if he saw her ogling him. Olivia felt like she was in the _Twilight Zone_ where up was down, right was left, and she had no control over her actions or reactions.

Then he turned, arms outstretched, the full glass in one hand and the wine bottle in the other, unintentionally showcasing his body for her. His pectoral muscles tensed under his shirt. With a glance at his crotch, she saw the nice sized bulge that hinted at what lay beneath the fabric. Knowing that he was staring at her as he made his way back, Olivia's eyes snapped up to meet his eyes, hoping he didn't notice.

"I'm not sure what my triggers are. I've never taken the time to investigate. Instead I try to avoid the common ones," she said with a smile when he set the full wine glass in front of her.

When he walked back to the refrigerator, Olivia forced herself to look down at the wine glass. She moved it in a circle watching the liquid swivel around like a whirlpool. Olivia had no idea how she was going to make it through this dinner since some unknown sex-crazed woman had possessed her body.

He closed the refrigerator, she knew, because she heard the sound. Then he returned with tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions, and some other veggies that had been precut and proceeded to create the salad there before her eyes.

"Well, I've heard that orgasms relieve migraines but being asexual…that might not be an option for you unless…well…if you could bring yourself to be sexual for therapeutic purposes," he said.

Olivia took a small sip of wine and ignored his comment. "What is on the menu tonight? It smells delicious. Are you the chef or did you have it made?"

He stopped chopping and smiled for her. "Why don't you guess?" he challenged.

"I'll have to know what it is first," she replied.

"Filet mignon with mushroom wine red sauce, risotto with leeks, shitake mushrooms, and truffles, and haricot verts," he said.

Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled, pretending to do a smell test. In reality, she wanted to take a small break from him. The experience was too much.

"I'd say you had it made. Someone as busy as you this close to an election doesn't have time to date, much less prepare a complicated meal, add to that you probably wouldn't know how to cook this meal even if you had the time," she said matter-of-factly.

"You are correct, my dear, though my intentions were to cook you my one specialty dish, lasagna. When I realized I would have no time, I had this prepared for us. But I am making the salad so I do get about 25 percent of the credit," he said, "and if I haven't already told you, you look stunning tonight."

* * *

 _Stunning? I look stunning?_ Olivia thought as she looked assessed her reflection in the mirror. She was in his bathroom, having excused herself just after he announced that dinner was ready. He was out there now waiting for her in the dining room where the table was romantically set for two. There were two long candles and low light for intimate ambiance along with soft music playing in the background. Despite her reticence, she was enjoying herself, but ironically, she was more uncomfortable than she'd been in a very long time. How could pleasure and discomfort exist all at once?

She used one of the soft face cloths to dry her face after splashing cold water on it in hopes of a stark cool off. After reapplying her makeup and taking care of some other important things, she returned to the dining area.

"Are you okay, Olivia? You aren't in pain are you?" he asked, standing as she walked to her seat. He pulled her chair back and ushered it under the table.

Though the table was long, they were close. He'd put her at the head and he was just beside her to the right. It was intimate as they were able to sit across from each other and beside each other at the same time.

"I'm fine. Just needed to freshen up…" she said, smiling reassuringly.

They ate in silence for a few minutes except for the clink and clank of glass and silverware.

"Everything is delicious," she said, breaking the silence. She wanted to move the night along and silence seemed to slow it down.

Instead of of responding verbally, he smiled and popped a piece of steak in his mouth.

When did the act of eating become sexy? It was like her brain broke down every movement and translated it sexually. The fork disappearing into his mouth; his tongue snaking out from between his lips to catch a drop of sauce at the corner of his lips; the up and down motion of his mouth; the movement of the muscles in his jaw and temple as he chewed; his lips parting slightly for the wine glass and the way his Adam's apple moved when he swallowed. Olivia was totally alarmed at her thoughts. She had never had this reaction to anyone before. Unfortunately, her thoughts about him weren't the only symptom of what she could no longer ignore as sexual arousal. Her body was responding as well. Freshening up her makeup had not been the only thing she had done in the bathroom. The crotch of her panties was soaking wet. She was afraid it was going to seep through to her dress.

It was unbelievable and reminded her of something she'd witnessed on screen during one of the pornos she had watched at work as research for an instructional video her company had planned to produce in conjunction with a new product launch. The idea was to make the Euphoria video more sensual and educational than the caricatured sex of pornography. Her staff had snickered at the copious amounts of liquid a woman emitted during one scene while masturbating in front of her partners. They'd all accepted that it was staged like wrestling.

While she didn't have vaginal secretions flowing down her leg, she couldn't deny how wet she was, so much so that she had to wipe it away several times. It was not comfortable wearing wet underwear, but she had no choice, hoping nothing would seep through.

"So tell me about the campaign," she said, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs, "how is it c-coming…going?"

Fitzgerald set down his fork and wiped his mouth with his cloth. "The campaign is going well…despite what happened with that evangelical group. We were able to smooth it over. All the polls having me beating my opponent by 62 percent, though my chief of staff won't stop worrying until the final vote is cast. I'm pretty confident, but I'm prepared if it doesn't go my way. Speaking of politics, I think you would do well there. You seem to have a killer instinct and a knack for making people believe what you say even if it is false."

Olivia took the bait. "You are saying I'm a liar and a bitch" she said.

His eyes widened at her brash words. "I wouldn't call you a bitch, Olivia. You are shrewd and know how to get what you want. As for the lying….well yes, I think you will lie for expediency. But I get that under certain circumstances and in certain spheres like politics, business…lying is appropriate…or shall I say modifying the truth here and there. In relationships, though, I know that lying is toxic," he explained.

Olivia took two hearty forkfuls of food, taking time to chew between them. "I guess that is a fair assessment, Fitz. I lied to you, deliberately deceived you to protect my business interests. No disagreement there," she said, taking a sip of wine.

Fitz looked at her for a long time but didn't immediately respond. She could tell he wanted to say something in response to her words, but he held back.

"Looks like you are done with your meal. Do you have room for dessert? It's sorbet. I have strawberry, peach, and lemon lime. You can choose one or I can bring you a little of all three," he explained.

"I think I'll take the peach," she said.

Fitzgerald rose from the table and collected their dishes. She tried to help him but he stopped her with his hand. His arm brushed her shoulder and she shuttered, immediately rolling her eyes from one side to the other in frustration at what she considered some newly appearing weakness.

"I'll be right back. Meet me in the living room. We can eat in there," he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut when he left, refusing to stare at his butt again. She saw it anyway in her imagination when she closed her eyes.

Sitting on the sofa staring at the freesias he gotten for her, she wondered if he would try to kiss her tonight. Could she take that without fainting like some romance novel cliché? As the moments, ticked by and her panties stayed wet, she began to resent Fitz as if he were responsible for her attraction to him, like it was his fault.

"I think you'll like the sorbet. The ultra creamy texture makes it taste a little like pudding, but it is still wet enough to be a sorbet. Peach was the right choice. It tastes just like a real peach without the fuzz of course," he said, extending a glass bowl full of two healthy scoops of sorbet garnished with a green leaf sitting atop and glass saucer.

"Thank you," she said, taking it from him, careful not to brush against his fingers.

"How is the dating going? I remember you saying how you needed to get back out there now," she said.

"I don't know. You tell me. How is tonight going? You are the extent of my dating pool right now," he said, taking a seat next to her on the couch and placing his one scoop filled bowl on the table next to the flowers.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, exhaled, and shook her head. "No, I am serious, Fitz, and curious," she said. Olivia really wasn't curious. She didn't care who he was dating. This was her effort to move things along.

"You are the only woman I am dating, Olivia Pope, to the consternation of Cyrus because of your line of work, but I have told him that I will be the decider in chief when it comes to my love life. Before my wife was diagnosed with cancer, we weren't on the best of terms, but we made amends and she made me promise to go after what I wanted instead of letting my job dictate every aspect of my life. That had been part of our marital problems, living for the political party, the donors, and the camera," he explained.

Olivia set her bowl of sorbet next to his on the table. He was sitting too close for comfort. The sofa's armrest prevented any retreat. She looked down at her hands and then met his stare. She could she and feel the measured fall and rise of her chest signaling her breathing. Why wasn't he breathing like he was cooling down from a workout? She let a little laugh escape her lips.

"Governor Grant, you called me a liar. Well, you are an arrogant, entitled…politician who thinks he can kidnap women or coerce them into dating him. I am not a liar and you can't force me to date you. I offered you sex. You declined. So I offered you this one dinner and now you are expecting it to happen again and again—" she said, getting angry at the small smirk on his face.

"You say politician as if it is a bad word, but yes, I am arrogant…to hold public office requires a healthy dose. Entitled? Hmm. No, I'm not entitled. I realize the value of hard work and know anything that's worth having will demand some sweat equity. Yes, I did tell someone to take you against your will to meet with me, but I didn't force or coerce you to date me. And, I'll take back what I said, you are not liar, but my dear, you have lied to me on several occasions and I know you will continue to do so for expediencies sake," Fitz said. He reached for his spoon and scooped up some sorbet for himself.

She watched him slowly remove the spoon from his mouth and repeat his movements. This time he held the sorbet to her mouth. When she parted her lips, an audible exhaled breath escaped. He didn't move the spoon so she leaned forward, slipping her mouth over the cold concoction. Her eyes closed as she took it on her tongue and pulled back. She didn't open her eyes until the sorbet melted in her mouth and she swallowed it all down.

Olivia reached for the back of her neck and squeezed, stretching from side to side. It was uncomfortable sitting in this small space facing him like this.

"Other than pretending to be someone I'm not, which we both know I did and admitted to, I have not lied to you, Governor Grant—"

"I would insist you call me Fitz, but I'm beginning to like the sound of you calling me Governor Grant," he interjected. "But to answer your question, you are pretending to be asexual because you think I only wanted to date you because of your job as if that gives you some special sexual edge over another woman. I will admit that I was intrigued when I found out what you did, but I was interested in you even as Mary Joseph. I liked you then. I was attracted to you then. I hadn't planned to act on it, but I was attracted nonetheless. To find out you were a fraud angered me initially, but it excited me as well since I would get to see you again," he said.

"How dare you challenge my sexuality!" she said.

"You've been so busy checking me out tonight, Olivia, that you didn't notice I was doing the same to you. You must be a different kind of bisexual, asexual and heterosexual, all wrapped in one," he challenged.

Olivia stood to her feet, "I have to go. I won't sit here and listen to you insult me." She didn't feel any indignation. But she was going to take heed to what her instincts were telling her. She needed to get out of here before she did something irreversible.

He stood as well, "Don't go, Olivia. You haven't touched the sorbet."

She backed away from him and walked to the foyer table to gather her purse and jacket. She sent a quick text to Ben.

"I could drive you home," he offered.

"No, it is fine," she said, letting him help her into her jacket.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the sofa. "You can at least finish your sorbet while you wait."

Olivia resisted and pulled him in the other direction towards the door's entrance. It was dark there. He reached for the light switch thinking she wanted to exit.

She pulled his hand back. "No," she said, "leave it off."

He frowned, confused until she guided him up against the wall. She leaned into him rising up on her toes since her high heals didn't quite make her tall enough to kiss him without his cooperation. When he realized what she was doing, it was quite easy. He leaned down and their lips met. His lips felt cold and firm. Warmth quickly came as they suckled on each other's lips exchanging the top for the bottom. When Olivia felt his tongue, she parted her lips and let her tongue meet, his rubbing against his. He tasted of peach sorbet and a hint of wine. Olivia felt a blinding rush of desire flow through her body. She held on tighter pulling her arms together until his neck was in the crook of her inner elbows. He picked her up and exchanged places with her, pushing her against the wall while their tongues competed for depth.

She ground her hips into thigh needing something to calm the ache between her legs. But it did not help. All she felt was a gushy wetness. She unwrapped one arm from his neck and grabbed his hand trying to shove it between her legs. But it didn't work. He ran his hand over her cheeks and squeezed, but he didn't move under her dress. She reached back lifted the hem of her dress. Fitz seemed to understand what she wanted, finally. He slipped his hand under her dress and kneaded her posterior. When he finally slipped his hands under her panties, Olivia gasped until he took her mouth in another bruising kiss. Her breath came quickly in anticipation of him touching her core.

"You are dripping… wet—" he said as his fingers waded through it all.

They both froze when the doorbell sounded. The fog of desire cleared enough for Olivia to realize what was happening. She pulled his hand out of her underwear and righted herself stepping away from him. He let her go and walked to the door. Looking through the peephole, he said. "It's your driver who has extremely bad timing and when do drivers meet you at the door?" he asked not masking his irritation as he looked back at her.

Olivia nodded her head cuing him to open the door.

"Yes, how can I help you?" Fitz said, asking an unnecessary question.

"I'm looking for Ms. Olivia Pope. I'm her driver, Ben," he said.

Fitz stepped back so Olivia could pass by. "Olivia…" he said.

She smoothed her dress down and walked forward to leave. She knew she couldn't just exit stage left from this drama, especially after what had just transpired, without some expectation from him. "Thanks for dinner," she said, hoping that would be enough for him for now.

He caught her hand and turned her around to face him. Bending forward, he whispered in her ear, "You can't dismiss me, Olivia. Your body won't let you." Then he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Olivia turned around and followed Ben to the car. When she was settled in her seat, she ventured a glance back up at Fitz's door. He stood in the same place, one arm crossed over his midsection and the other arm bent at the elbow resting on his hand. His fingers were splayed across his nose and mouth as if he were in deep thought. Olivia thought for a second and remembered which of his hands she'd shoved in her panties. She quickly looked away when she realized he was giving her a silent sexual signal of remembrance of where his hands had been and what they had found, the evidence of which was still on his hands.

"Childish," she whispered as Ben drove off.

* * *

Even though Olivia hadn't ever been that intimate with a man in her adult life, she didn't let the encounter consume her thoughts once she got home. She checked her e-mail, looked at some reports, and returned a phone call from Abby about rescheduling a meeting with a supplier. By 11:30 she was in bed occupied by her thoughts which returned earlier that night. Playing and replaying her quasi date with Fitzgerald Grant. Though she wouldn't admit it, she had expected him to call her if only just to tease her about being the aggressor and practically attacking him at the door.

Olivia knew she was going to talk with Dr. Chase about it. Why did she react to him this way? Why was she so seemly attracted to him?

She looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. She looked at her phone. He hadn't called or sent a text. This made her very angry. Before she could stop herself she had dialed him. Instantly, she knew that had been a bad idea when she heard his voice.

"Hello, Olivia."

"I bet you are pleased with yourself," she accused.

He had the never to chuckle. "Pleased with myself? For what? Tell me."

"She who claimed to be asexual kissed you first and then shoved your hand down her panties," she said.

"No, I would have been more pleased had Ben not showed up for at least 20 minutes or at all. When he left, I was in misery, hard as a rock with your scent all over my hands and the knowledge that you were that wet and I could do absolutely nothing about it. To top it off, one of my kids called shortly thereafter needing a listening ear because he was arguing with his girlfriend. I mumbled some advice which I can't remember now. I took a cold shower but only masturbating gave me some relief. I'm sorry if my saying that offends you, Olivia. I'm just being honest," he said.

Olivia held the phone. She didn't know what to say since she was out of her element here. She had taken a hot shower earlier and tried to ignore her lingering arousal. It didn't let up though. She was still wet, opting to forgo underwear with her nightgown.

"You are lucky, Olivia. You have access to state of the art sex toys. I only have my hand. But I'm glad you called me tonight. This is a pleasant surprise. When can I see you again? We didn't get to talk as much as I wanted. I have so much I want to know about you," he said.

She wanted a snappy comeback or a witty way to turn him down, but she only managed to say, "How about lunch tomorrow if you are free and want to be seen with me out in public?"

"Really? Yes, Olivia. I don't know what is on my schedule, but I will make it happen. Give me a ball park time," he said anxiously.

"Between 11:00-1:30 or 2-3, I'm available," she said, knowing her schedule cold.

"Okay, I'll be in touch," he said, "Good night."

"Good night," she said.

When Olivia disconnected the line, she thought about what he'd said. She wouldn't know where to start if she wanted to masturbate. She considered pulling out a product sample, but talked herself out of it, knowing she would feel foolish. Instead she shoved one of her small pillows between her legs and tried to fall asleep.


	9. Premium

**Chapter 9**

 **Premium**

* * *

Olivia pressed the replay button on her answering machine for the 3rd time and listened to the recording:

 _Carrie, pick up honey…It's Mom. I know I'm not supposed to call you but it is very important. Please pick up. I need to talk to you as soon as possible. It can't wait till Christmas or your birthday when you…allow us…to see you. We are your parents, Carrie. Will you ever forgive us for…I'm sorry for going there, but we have to talk, please…this is not something I can tell you over a machine. Call me, Carrie._

Her mother's call had come in at 5:00 AM that morning, its ring competing with the sound of her alarm. No one called Olivia that early. She had figured it was Abby calling about work. When she saw who was calling, she knew her day would not follow the plan she had set. She would be late for work because the routine she relied on was interrupted. Silencing the alarm, she lowered herself back on the bed.

Four hours later, Olivia was dressed and ready for work. It had taken that long for her to get equilibrium. She had built a life of certainty and predictability. To preserve that balance, she could only see her parents two times a year. Her mother knew this, but she still intruded. Why would she do that? That question invaded Olivia repeatedly. But what really consumed her was a nagging worry that it had to do with him, the one whose name she hadn't uttered since he was put away. The nagging worry turned to fear. Her parents always abided by her wishes since she moved to New York. It had to be about him. After a dizzying inner monologue about this Olivia finally decided to put it all away.

* * *

"I will not accept your resignation, Abiba. Whatever our disagreements, we can work to find a compromise," Olivia said evenly.

Abiba sat across from Olivia in her office looking unlike herself. Her locks which were usually arranged in an intricate upswept style were hanging in awkward angles around her shoulders as if they had just been taken down. The flowing bohemian attire she wore was replaced with jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, and a leather jacket. She appeared younger with none of that commanding presence she usually exuded. Her expression had a weary and vulnerable edge to it.

She raised her head and stared at Olivia, her lids opening and shutting slowly. "Believe me, I don't want to resign, but some personal issues have cropped up that have prevented me from carrying out my duties," she said.

"Well at least you aren't saying you need more time to spend with your family. What is it? I'm not trying to pry, but maybe I can help you. Am I to assume this is the real reason you wanted to reduce capacity at SpaBliss?" Olivia said.

"Yes. I thought I could buy myself some time to work through my personal issues," she admitted, "but I should have known you wouldn't allow that."

"That is completely unfair, Abiba. You lie to me about your reasons for wanting to halt the success of my business, expect me to act according to what you want without any sound evidence, and then accuse me of being inflexible when I don't do what you want. To top it all off, you didn't give me all the information. Please be straight with me now, Abiba. That is all I ask," Olivia said, though it sounded like a demand.

Abiba inhaled deeply and leveled her gaze on Olivia. "Okay. Do you know David Oshiro?" she said.

"Yes, of course. He's one of the designers at Lotus. I would steal him away if I could afford him," Olivia said.

"He and I have been…involved for over 6 years—" Abiba began but Olivia interrupted her.

"And you mean involved how?" she questioned, with knit brows and a cocked eyebrow.

Abiba inhaled again and looked with frustration at the ceiling and back at Olivia. "Romantically, sexually…and yes I deserve that look you are giving me. You are asking yourself how I can be in a sexual relationship since I am asexual, right? With all due respect, Olivia, the specifics are not your busy, but—"

"Not _my_ business? Not my _business_? That little fact was your biggest selling point during your interview, Abiba! You declared your asexuality as some kind of edge over any other candidate. Did you lie about why you left Lotus? Was it really for creative differences or did management find out about your affair with David, whom I've never seen you with by the way. He always has some gorgeous model type on his arm," Olivia said, "not that I'm implying you aren't a gorgeous model type…I've just never seen him with you."

"See I knew this was a bad idea. You can accept my resignation letter and let me move on," Abiba said.

"No…No…I need to know the rest. You were with David for most of your time at Lotus. That is presumably why you left. So now why do you want to leave Euphoria? You aren't in a relationship with someone here are you?" Olivia said, realizing how patronizing she sounded.

"No. David and I broke up when I left. To make a long story not quite so long, I am about 6 weeks pregnant with his child. And yes, I was asexual when I first started working at Lotus. We didn't want our relationship to get out so we were discrete. Having people think I am asexual makes my job easier, especially with first timers. Honestly, it doesn't make a difference in my actual work," she said.

"Does being pregnant make a difference?" Olivia asked.

"No…well I don't think so. I've never been pregnant before. This was a total shock. It may be uncomfortable for some clients once I start showing—"

"Have you told David, yet?" Olivia asked.

"No, and I don't plan to. It would be better if he didn't know." Abiba said.

Olivia clasped her fingers together and focused in on Abiba. "So, the only reason you are resigning is because you think I would have a problem with the lie you told about your sexual orientation and that you are pregnant?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Well then, Abiba, that is good news. I do hate being lied to, but I don't care about your pregnancy. As long as you are okay with carrying out your duties, my only concern is for your health and my clients' satisfaction. We need to think about how to resolve the problem of clients having a problem. Is there anything else you need to tell me?" Olivia said.

"No, that is it," she said.

"Good. I must remind you, Abiba, you did sign a contract. Failure to abide by the terms will constitute a breach and force me to take legal action," she said.

"Yes, I know that, Olivia," she said, "I would expect nothing less from you."

When Abiba left the office, Olivia wasn't bothered by her sarcastic comment. Her job wasn't to be friends with her staff but to protect her business. In Olivia's mind, friendship was overrated. Abiba left with her job in tact, a lot more than what the proverbial shoulder to cry on could provide.

Olivia found herself thoroughly intrigued by this latest turn of events. She hadn't thought about her mom's voicemail message since the meeting had begun, which opened room in her mind to think about Fitz and their tentative lunch date. She called him.

"I have good news and bad news, Ms. Pope," he said, "which would you like first?"

"You can't meet me for lunch so you want to reschedule," she said.

"Well, now I'm trying to figure out which one of those is good or bad in your estimation," he said, a smile in his voice.

"That you can't meet for lunch isn't good or bad news. That you want to reschedule isn't good or bad either, Governor Grant," she said, "I know how to manage my expectations. Considering your line of work and that someone else manages your schedule, the chances of you being able to meet were highly unlikely."

"Well, aren't you the most pragmatic, levelheaded person when you aren't throwing me against the wall and shoving your tongue down my throat and my hand up your skirt," he challenged,

Her swift intake of breath made him chuckle. "I was hoping you hadn't forgotten about last night and filed it away under some asexual category," he said.

"Please don't mention that word to me again. Turns out it is just a label," she said.

Fitz shooed one of his staff out of his office. "I am sincerely enjoying our conversation. Please say we can meet later tonight. We can meet in public if you want at—"

"No. I'm not ready for that—" she said.

"Meaning there is a chance you will be open to being seen with me in public. My day just improved by 90%," he interrupted.

Olivia gathered the reports for her next meeting and said, "Meet me at my place—I know you have my address—tonight at 7. I'll cook this time and it'll actually be my cooking."

"Okay, that really hurt. I'm looking forward to it, though I hope the night ends a little different this time," he said suggestively.

"Yes, I would prefer to have a slice of cheesecake instead of sorbet, no offense to the sorbet, Bye Governor Grant see you tonight," she said, an impromptu smile escaping from her lips at his hearty laughter as she disconnected the phone.

* * *

"How dare you call her," Elijah demanded, "when I told you not to. You looked me in my eyes and promised, Maya."

"Stop speaking to me as if I am your child, Eli," Maya said, stretching back against the bed, a cold compress on her forehead. The migraine she thought was on its way out returned full force when her husband confronted her about calling Olivia.

"I'm sorry for raising my voice, honey, but haven't I taken care of this each time he's come up for parole?" Eli said.

"You have, Eli, but you won't be able to buy this new parole board. Half the members have retired, died or moved on. The parole hearing is three months away and you haven't gotten assurance of how they are going to vote. The bastard might get out and the white collar crimes you got him locked up for won't prevent him from preying on some—" she said.

"Maya, as long as I have breath in my body. That man won't set foot out of that prison a free man. Please have faith in me. I know you meant well by trying to warn her, but the damage you'll do will set our baby back a decade. I know it hurts that she relegates us to Christmas and her birthday, but that is better than never seeing her. She is successful in her own right even if it is in the adult entertainment industry," Eli said. He joined Maya on the bed, and massaged her temples.

She settled against him and let the tears stream from her eyes. "Do you think she sells that stuff because she is messed up in the mind, I mean intimately? Maybe that is why she hasn't had a relationship, Eli. I just worry about her. It's made worse by the fact that she won't talk to me. It's like she blames me….and she should. I missed all the signs…" Maya said, folding herself into a ball.

"Honey, don't do this. She doesn't blame you. Dr. Chase is close and she can see him whenever she wants. I need you to trust me. I'm going to get you your pain meds and put you in the shower before this migraine gets the best of you," Eli said, pulling her to sit up so he could undress her.

She reached out and hugged him and he hugged her back.

* * *

"Olivia, Good afternoon, How wonderful it is to see you today," said Dr. Chase, "I'm sorry for the delay." He walked into his office from the door to an adjoining room, greeting Olivia with a hearty handshake before taking a seat at his desk, grabbing his pad and pen, and turning to face her.

"It's not a problem. I knew I should have taken my time instead of rushing to get here on the hour. I left my…well it's okay. I'll make due," Olivia said, looking uncomfortable and mildly irritated at his lateness for an appointment Olivia had not made. Her standing appointment was on the hour at 2 or 3, but only if she decided to come. She tried not to be angry because it didn't make sense.

Dr. Chase reached in his desk and pulled out two boxes of trident gum and placed them on the table before her. "I have Spearmint, Wintergreen, and Strawberry," he said, "my apologies if these are not your flavors. I couldn't quite remember from last time."

Olivia smiled warmly and reached for the Wintergreen. "Dr. Chase, thank you for the gum. I rushed out of the office and forgot my gum," Olivia said. The gesture touched her deeply that tears welled up behind her eyes. She pushed them back down.

"I know I should stop chewing the gum. It has become sort of a crutch for me when I am anxious or need to work out a problem. I don't chew in front of anyone since I think chewing gum is gross and annoying. Hence one of my many hypocritical contradictions," Olivia explained.

Dr. Chase gave her a smirk. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Olivia. A bad habit here or there won't hurt you. Chew away. So what brings you in today?"

After about 30 minutes of talking about nothing and chewing three pieces of gum, Olivia finally opened up.

"I've been thinking how people can have really complicated issues surrounding sex, Dr. Chase. I've long accepted my sexual idiosyncrasies...or lack of sex in my idiosyncrasies but I'm thinking that 'normal' people have issues too," Olivia said.

"And by normal do you mean people who have not experienced a sexual trauma?" Dr. Chase asked.

"Yes. Take Abiba for instance…She lied to me about why she wanted to make some changes at work. Before that she lied about being asexual in the interview because she thought it gave her an edge. She masqueraded as such in her old job while having an affair with a man she worked with. Now she is pregnant by him and won't tell him," Olivia explained, "and she was going to resign, give up her job, because she thought I would fire her."

"I'm curious. Why didn't you let her go? She lied to you multiple times," Dr. Chase said.

"Well, I hired her to do a job. That is all that matters to me. And she looked extremely out of sorts. I felt I could offer some sort of help," Olivia said, "What helps her is ultimately a good thing for my bottom line so keeping her working will be of great benefit."

"I think you were being kind, Olivia." Dr. Chase said, "Being kind and a good businessperson are not mutually exclusive."

"My date with the governor last night was interesting. It was difficult to get through it because I was attracted to him. It was really disconcerting. It made me sort of aggressive. I kissed him and I think I want to have sex with him," Olivia said, quickly.

Dr. Chase's brows knit together, a clue to Olivia that he was concerned. "Isn't this a good thing?" Olivia asked.

"What do you think? Are you ready to open up to him and let him in? Are you ready to be vulnerable and share with him what happened—" Dr. Chase asked.

"Wait. No. I think you are misunderstanding me, Dr. Chase, I know the goal of therapy was to heal from the past and experience the whole spectrum of human emotions," Olivia said using air quotes, "Just because I want to have sex with this guy doesn't mean I want to fall in love or tell him my personal business. I enjoy our interactions. He is attracted to me. I am attracted to him. Nothing more. Considering the personnel issues I've had to deal with lately surrounding sex, what I want is as normal and uncomplicated as it gets."

"I understand what you are saying, Olivia, and it is healthy that you are acknowledging your attraction for him. All I am saying is that you can't continue to interact as you say with the governor and expect to keep things to be nice and neatly organized. What if he wants more from you? What if you want more? Human interaction is really messy and unpredictable, Olivia. I want you to account for the messiness and at least be ready for it, okay." Dr. Chase cautioned.

"Yes, Dr. Chase, I understand," Olivia said.

* * *

Olivia felt a distinct satisfaction when she pulled the large dish of lasagna from the oven, the sauce and cheese bubbling in the corners. Careful not to burn herself she gripped the glass dish and moved it slowly onto the cooling rack. She had about 30 minutes before Fitz was due to arrive and everything was right on schedule. He didn't know that her signature dish was lasagna as well. Seeing his face when he tasted it would bring her more satisfaction because she knew her lasagna would be tastier than his. She chuckled aloud admitting how much he brought out her competitive streak.

After a quick warming of the cheesy garlic bread, everything would be ready including the tossed salad. She'd picked up a small appetizer and caramel cheesecake at The Fresh Market on her way home. Tonight she felt less nervous and more in control. She even dressed the part. Instead of a soft, feminine dress, she chose mint green bolero pants, a white silk camisole, a matching mint green jacket, and ballet flats. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. Her makeup was subtle.

At 6:55, her doorbell rang. As she passed the mirror by the door, thoughts of her mother's message arose in her mind. _Why didn't I mention it to Dr. Chase?_ she asked herself.

The doorbell rang again, but she couldn't move forward. Reaching in the drawer, she searched for a pack of gum. She was torn between not answering the door and answering the door with gum in her mouth. Choosing the later, she moved forward and opened the door. When she opened the door and saw him, she knew that wearing ballet slippers had been a mistake. It exaggerated their height difference in a way that made her feel like a dwarf, but seeing him again felt good. He had dressed differently as well trading his suit slacks for khakis and a white linen shirt. They had both gone for comfort.

* * *

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to get me to express my eternal love for you," said Fitz. He was on his third serving of lasagna.

Olivia gave him a genuine frown, "Why would you say that?" she said.

"You know they say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach and this meal is divine," he explained, "and you have put my lasagna to shame. I won't be able to make it for you now."

"I'm glad you like it. I had forgotten you mentioned that lasagna was your specialty," she said.

"Liar," he said, staring directly at her, "you were showing off, plain and simple."

She moved her chair closer to him surprising herself. "Well, maybe a little."

Fitz leaned in and cupped her jaw with his hand. She responded by leaning into his palm.

"Tell me something true and honest, Olivia," he said.

"I like you," she said.

He leaned closer and brushed his lips across hers.

"Tell me something true and honest that I don't already know," Fitz said.

Olivia leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Before he could respond, she pulled back. "I was prepared to have sex with you tonight, but after therapy I've changed my mind," Olivia said.

Fitz raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Well, I need the name and credentials of this therapist as I need to put him out of business."

They shared a brief chuckle.

"I like this game," she said, "Tell me something else and it doesn't have to be about sex."

"I've thought about running for President of the United States," he said.

"Really? Well, it would probably be best if we are never seen together in public. You don't want to have to answer questions about me," she said.

"Your turn," he said.

She sighed. "Hmm…I'm an organ donor," she said.

"Well, that is admirable. I think I am as well, but I haven't renewed my own driver's license in years so I'll have to check," he said.

"Does that mean I have to go again?" she asked.

He nodded.

Olivia took a moment before answering. "I've never used one of Euphoria's products," she said.

He frowned. "I want to ask you why, but I am confident you won't tell me. But this is not good. Won't your clients lose faith in your products if they know you haven't tried them. How can you peddle them if you haven't tried them?" he asked.

Olivia rose to her feet and said, "Do you think you are ready for dessert now?" She didn't answer his question and he didn't push it.

"I've eaten too much already, Olivia. Let me help you clean up before I have another glass of wine," he said.

They cleaned and chatted working as a team to load the dishwasher and clear the dining room table. Olivia prepared the remaining food for Fitz to take home.

The night was different for both of them. Olivia wasn't overwhelmed by her attraction. Fitz didn't feel compelled to share obscure pieces of information, a nervous habit he developed as a teenager.

Neither wanted the night to end and it was evident in their final kiss. When they pulled back, Olivia rubbed smudged lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

"You need to fix that before you get home," she said.

When he peppered kisses at various places on her face, she chuckled and pulled out of his arms until he pulled her back.

"I've had the best time these last two nights," he said, "Will I ever be able to have dinner without you again?"

"You'll manage, Fitz."

* * *

Sitting at her desk the following day, Olivia laughed out loud at the familiar box velvet box. When the courier had delivered the package, she guessed it was from Fitz. It didn't take long to discover that the package was from Euphoria. He'd bought her the most expensive, premium vibrator in the product line, The Calla Lily, along with all the different attachments. The card didn't include her name, thankfully, but the message read:

 _Please use this. When you are done, call me and share the details._

 _You know who..._

She placed the box in her bag and returned to reading reports.


	10. Closer

**Closer**

 **Chapter 10**

* * *

Fitz knew Cyrus was speaking to him, but the words were only a series of syncopated sounds and silences. He was hyper focused on his calendar because he wanted to see Olivia. They hadn't seen each other in four days, 6 hours and 3 minutes by his calculation, an unfortunate circumstance he was intent on rectifying. To do this he needed to change his own calendar, which was usually controlled by Ms. Hanley.

He didn't like the extended game of phone tag they were playing, leaving and retrieving voice mail messages, the waiting for a return phone call. No amount of text messages could make up for it. He wanted to see her face to face, read her expressions, and talk to her live. Touching her and kissing her was a guarantee given their undeniable attraction. More would be heaven but at this point he wasn't in any rush to have sex. A part of him feared that having sex with her prematurely would jeopardize their budding romance even though she had seemed very willing.

Olivia was an enigma to him, and he hadn't quite figured her out yet. Fitz was good at reading people. His job required it. He also loved puzzles, the more challenging the better. She was certainly that, a lesson in contrasts. She could be lively or stoic, passionate or reserved, and, dry or comical. How could she have tricked him into believing she was a conservative evangelical Christian, Mary Joseph?. He would have never guessed she could pull that off. She'd propositioned him with sex to get him to leave her alone. She'd professed to be asexual. They'd argued over some of this favorite topics including he merits or lack thereof of the Electoral College. How could all these personas be in one person. Her personality changed like a kaleidoscope. He sensed this was intentional, tactic to keep people at arms length. That's what he saw when he looked at her pictures in _Vanity Fair._ She was giving the outside world what she thought they wanted, anything but herself. This chameleon like quality could be used for sinister purposes. In her case it was a useful tool. She assessed a situation and shored up what was needed to navigate it successfully.

During their last date, he was certain she was beginning to open up to him as the authentic Olivia Pope. He wanted to know her. That couldn't happen without spending some serious quality time in person and alone with her. He wasn't going to let his job or hers stand in the way.

"We should reschedule, sir. You aren't even trying to pretend you are listening to me. I can speak with Ms. Hanley about setting up a better time. Keep in mind that we need to discuss these pardons and sentence reduction applications soon, Governor Grant," said Cyrus, gathering the binder, his cell phone, coffee mug, and walking to the door."

"Yes, I think that will work," Fitz said to himself, his eyes trained on the screen, "Now, I'm gonna have to hope she is free."

At his words, Cyrus stopped at the door and turned around. "Hope who is free, Governor Grant? Is there something I can help you with?"

Fitz raised his head and peered at Cyrus. "Oh, Cyrus…" he said, remembering his presence in the room, "Apologies for my lack of attention. Ms. Hanley has been scheduling me like a robot these days. I've had no personal time so I'm taking a look at it, moving some things around and blocking off some time."

Cyrus returned to his chair, took a seat, and placed his belongings back on the table.

"Governor, this is the way of the workload at the end of a term, unfortunate but necessary like a root canal. It's all about getting everything in before you have to leave. In your case, you want a second term so you are doing double duty, being two people, the outgoing governor and hopefully the newly elected one," Cyrus explained, clasping his hands together in strategy mode, "Let me help you. What are you trying to schedule? Something with Karen? Your mom? One of your sisters?"

Fitz smiled, mildly amused at Cyrus and his willful ignorance. His trusty chief of staff sometimes coped with not getting his way by pretending the obstacles did not exist. He had told him about his intent to date Olivia Pope weeks ago. Fitz hadn't given Cyrus details, but he knew that Cyrus suspected he was seeing her since he hadn't nagged him about dating. This is what they did for those issues about which they disagreed. Fitz listened to Cyrus' arguments. If Fitz wasn't swayed, he would do what he wanted. Cyrus would ignore the issue until circumstances demanded he either try to convince Fitz to change or he would have to accept the decision and move on while helping Fitz carry it out.

"You can check one thing off the to do list, Cy. I am officially dating. It's been difficult to get together with her the last couple of days due to my overloaded schedule so I've created time," Fitz said even though he knew Olivia would not agree with his assessment of their relationship status.

Cyrus stood up and squeezed that place between his eyes, a sure sign of stress. When he faced him down, Fitz knew they were about enter the stage where Cyrus was going to argue with him against dating Olivia.

"Sir, with all due respect, are you serious? You can't be. You have to know this is political suicide. You are going to bring the wrong kind of attention to yourself. Are you ready for that kind of scrutiny? Is she ready? This will not be fun. The relationship will be grist for the rumor mill and not just the political ones. It will be this re-election campaign's undoing. I saw the article about her and her company in _Vanity Fair._ I mean no disrespect to her, but you may as well be dating a porn star. Before you say those pictures she took were for promotional purposes, let me say that those pictures will be all the average voter sees. They won't read the article nor care that she owns her own company. We live in a society that is sexually repressed but very sexually active, a dangerous combination. No matter how much we try to spin her as a woman empowering other women, it won't work. This is not the right context for that. The purpose of this campaign is not to educate the public on—" Cyrus contended.

Fitz stood as well, holding up his hands. "Cyrus…Cyrus…," he said, "I don't need lectures, though by your compelling arguments, it is obvious you've been thinking about how to spin my relationship, but there is no need. We are moving slow and getting to know each other. We haven't gone out together in public yet."

Cyrus squinted as if he were trying to see something far away. His cerebral wheels were turning. "That could work. Keep it secret. We'd have to be discreet, sir, but I would recommend you choose someone to be be a sort of stand in public girlfriend. She could go with you to functions where a plus one is appropriate," he said.

Fitz chuckled. "Cy, now I can ask you the same question," he said, "Are you serious? You are proposing I choose a fake girlfriend to take to functions while keeping my real girlfriend a secret. Where will I get a fake girlfriend, Cy? What would I have to do to keep her quiet about the whole arrangement? Would we construct an identify for her? Have you been watching that show, "The Girlfriend Experience"? Is that what you are proposing, but she would perform for the public? Don't you think that would be political suicide, far more dangerous than hiring an escort. What if someone found out I had a real and a fake girlfriend? I would rather not create some grand fabrication as if I have something to hide. I won't live my life that way, Cyrus. Not anymore."

Cyrus opened his mouth but closed it again like a fish out of water.

"I should probably take a look at those pardons and sentence reduction applications. Are there any interesting ones? How many slots do I have open?" Fitz asked, returning to his desk.

Cyrus took his seat and reached for the binder. "You have 3 slots open to add to your current list of pardons. Here is the binder of all the applications," he said, extending it to Fitz," I have tabbed the ones I think you should consider. There's one that really stands out for consideration, Ronald Levine. His parole hearing is in a couple of months."

"Okay, I'll take a look at it, Cy," Fitz said, taking the binder and setting it on his desk.

* * *

"Pregnant? Abiba? But how? I thought she was antisexual," Abby said, stacking and restacking the papers on the table in front of her.

"Asexual," Olivia corrected, noticing how uncomfortable Abby appeared, "She deceived us in the meeting because she thought it would help her get hired, and she was correct."

"What are you going to do about it, Liv?" said Harrison. His eyes darted to Abby, checking to see if she was looking at him before he stared at her.

Olivia wondered why Abby and Harrison were acting strangely around each other as if they were trying to avoid the other. Had this been their first meeting since the debacle, she would have attributed it to the awkwardness of knowing your boss saw you ass bare in a threesome. Since they had many meetings since she'd formally disciplined them, she didn't know what was the cause.

"At this point, I'm not doing anything. I've spoken with Abiba about it and she's given me assurance that she will continue working as long as she can. I don't have the time to launch another search. I don't want to fire anyone else. With Esther gone, that would be too many in a short period. The staff may begin to feel uneasy which will bring down productivity. What I will need is for you, Abby, to support her in any way you can. Keep an eye on her. She mentioned how clients might feel uncomfortable when she starts to show. Think about what we should do," Olivia said.

As she thought about whether to mention the palatable discomfort in the room, she glanced at the avant garde wall clock and noted the time. It was an hour before noon. She wondered what Fitz was doing. Would he call her today or maybe later? Should she call him since they had missed each other's calls in the last several days? When will they see each other in person again. She wanted to call him instead of waiting for his call.

"I'll definitely begin thinking about that. Is it okay for me to approach her now? Have you told her you would tell me?" Abby asked.

"Don't approach her yet, Abby. I need to speak with her one more time. Harrison, I need you to do some research on David Oshiro from Lotus. Anything you can find on him, professional, personal…" Olivia said.

"Okay…Why do you need information on him? Are we looking to hire a new designer?" he asked.

"I'll let you know, Harrison. Just get me the information as soon as you can," Olivia said, "I feel some tension in the room. Are we fine? Is there something we need to address? Let's discuss it now."

Both Abby and Harrison looked at Olivia like alert gamecocks.

"No, Olivia. Everything is fine…" Abby said.

"All is well," said Harrison.

"That's good. You can both leave now. Thanks," said Olivia.

When they left the office, Olivia let her head fall back on her office chair. Maybe the unease she felt was her own. The strain that comes from working late around the clock and rising early. Although she had enjoyed the 2 times they had dinner, she didn't like thinking about him while she worked. It was a distraction she didn't need. Work should be work and should not mix with whatever they were doing. Before she could talk herself out of it, she dialed his number.

"Hello," Fitz said.

"Hello, may I speak with Governor Grant?" Olivia began.

"This is my personal cell phone. You never have to ask to speak to me on this line. When I answer, you have me," he said.

"Oh…I…I suppose I knew that," she said, "Are you available to talk or should I call you at a later—"

He chuckled softly. "Yes, I'm available. And even if wasn't I'd talk to you. We've been playing an epic game of phone tag the last couple of days. You've been busy?" he asked.

"We are in the process of rebranding. New website, logo, everything…Between that and day-to-day operations, I'm working every moment," she explained.

"I want to see you," he said, his voice dropping just enough to communicate a shared intimacy, "Are you free tonight? I'll come to you."

Olivia placed the phone to her chest and drew in a deep ragged breath. She couldn't understand how the subtle modulation of his tone could reduce her to forgetting how to breath normally.

"Yes, I'd like that," she said after pulling the phone back to her ear, "I can cook something for us."

Olivia regretted offering to cook as soon as the words spilled out. She didn't have the patience or strength for cooking today. It wasn't in her plan. Since hearing his voice after a couple of days of texting and listening to recorded voice messages, she just wanted to see him.

"Since this is short notice, I'll bring dinner. Would you eat pizza with me? I know a good gourmet pizza place…" he said.

"That sounds good. I'll provide dessert," she offered, though to her it sounded like a double entendre. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something else to say that would shift the attention.

"Olivia, I want to ask you a question, but I don't want you to feel compelled to respond if you don't want to," he said.

"Go ahead. Ask away," she said.

"Was the present I sent you too much? It seemed like a smart idea-I was going for smart and sexy-after the great time we had together at dinner, but now that I haven't seen you in a couple days, I'm wondering if it was more an...an asshole move. I don't want to seem presumptuous, Olivia. I wasn't trying to be…be..." he said.

He sounded so genuine which made her feel something she couldn't identify. She smiled.

"No, I liked it that you sent it. It was totally unexpected, I'll admit. I laughed out loud. It was a genuine guffaw, Fitz. I haven't guffawed or said the word guffaw since I was a little girl and used to read it in books. But I'll say that the verdict is still out on whether you are an asshole. There is still your holding me against my will that time after having me kidnapped. That puts you pretty high up on the asshole meter," she said.

It was his time to guffaw. They shared a hearty one together.

* * *

"So tell me how you became a mogul of the intimate products industry," Fitz asked, grabbing his second slice of pizza.

He had convinced her to have a pizza picnic on her living room floor. They were sitting cross legged and facing each other on a red and white checkered blanket with paper plates and plastic cutlery. The wicker picnic basket was their table on which they ate pepperoni pizza.

"I'm not exactly a mogul, Fitz," she said, picking a piece of pepperoni from the pizza and popping it in her mouth.

"Don't be modest. I think you are stalling because you don't want to tell me," he said, taking a swig of beer.

"I'm not being modest or stalling. There is not much to tell. I was a temporary receptionist at the company that existed before Euphoria. Within five years, I was named president," Olivia said, deliberately taking a big bite of her pizza hoping he would ask more questions. He was right. She didn't want to talk to him about the past.

Fitz mirrored her, taking a big bite of his pizza. They watched each other chew.

Olivia took a napkin and swiped a small dollop of sauce from the corner of his mouth.

He closed the pizza box and moved the wicker basket to the side, removing the barrier between them.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

Olivia closed the space between them and sat on his lap, straddling him. It was as if she was watching herself, her eyes were the screens from within and outside herself. She could tell he was aroused and excited, but he stayed still yet watchful. She braced her hands against his chest, looking down and the small space between them, just enough for her bent arms. His hands rested on her waist. Her hands rose and fell with the the rise and fall of his breathing, calming her. She finally looked into his eyes.

"I'm thinking, 'Where did you come from?' I'm thinking that you, this…us…is so unexpected. I'm thinking that being with you like this doesn't fit into my life, but as my therapist would say," she said, glancing away from his intense gaze to collect her thoughts and then back, "'Olivia, what are you feeling not thinking?' I'm feeling…this tremendous desire…to be as close to you as I can…but…"

The tears in her eyes didn't register until she felt the pads of her thumbs rubbing them away.

"But…" he said, encouraging her to continue.

She swallowed. "I can't because…it would require me to…I just can't. I thought I could, but you make me feel defenseless…" she said, looking away again.

He cupped her face and pulled her back. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You don't need defenses around me. I want whatever—" he said, but she silenced him with her lips.

His hands fell away from her face, resting on either side of his thighs. Knowing he was holding back deepened her hunger for him. She grasped either side of his face and feasted on his lips. After awhile, he pulled back and kissed his way down the side of her neck. Olivia was lost in her feelings. Contradicting her words, she reached for his belt buckle. Fitz groaned. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her fingers to his lips. He kissed each hand and said, his voice raspy, "How about that dessert you promised."

She smiled and nodded moving off him. He held her still.

"Hold on tight," he said, rising to his feet while she was still in his arms, "It's obvious that you can't get enough of me so I'll keep you close for your own sake. Direct me to the dessert."

She gave carefree giggle, the sound unfamiliar to her ears, as he carried her into the kitchen.

"Fitz, don't drop me," she said, "It's the box on the counter by the bread box."

"I have winter coats heavier than you," he said, depositing her on the counter. He picked up the pink baker's box and opened it, revealing two cupcakes piled high with icing. He read the names of each cupcake, "Bliss and salted caramel. Hmmm…Please describe the flavors so I'll know which one I want."

"Bliss is a white almond cupcake with almond buttercream icing. Salted caramel is a white caramel cupcake with caramel buttercream icing, a caramel drizzle and sprinkles," she explained.

"Wow. I love it when you describe the flavors. It is very sexy," he said, giving her a light kiss on the lips. She grinned against his lips.

"I would recommend the Bliss," she advised, "The salted caramel is good, but it can be a little too much…overwhelming with the icing, drizzle, and sprinkles."

He leaned his head against hers, the cupcake box still in his hand. "I bet you taste like salted caramel," he whispered. He selected that cupcake and set the box down.

Olivia moved her head against his and hooked her legs around his waist. "I bet you taste like Bliss," she said.

"Touché," he said, presenting the cupcake to her, "I'd like to taste the icing first."

She swiped some of the icing from the top and tapped on his lips. He opened his mouth and nipped at her finger, but she pulled back and sucked the icing off her own finger.

He set the cupcake down and leaned into her, his voice was serious. "Olivia, I heard what you said. I want to be close to you too, as close as two people can be. Something is holding you back. I'm here, sweetheart, and I don't plan on going anywhere."

* * *

Olivia pushed two pieces of gum in her mouth. "Dr. Chase, I don't know how this happened. I like him too much," she said, "and I don't like it. I don't like thinking about him when I'm at work. I don't like any of this." Olivia found herself at Dr. Chase's office the next morning apologetic for showing up outside her scheduled, but not really scheduled time. With 30 minute before his first appointment, he gave her a session.

Dr. Chase pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "When you are thinking about him, I assume when he's not around, are you distracted to the point of being unproductive?" he asked.

Olivia shook her head.

"What is it that you feel that distresses you so since it is not interfering with your work, Olivia?" he asked.

She chewed and thought about it. "I feel a little anxious but excited about the prospect of seeing or talking to him," she said.

"Why do these feelings upset you, Olivia" Dr. Chase asked.

"Isn't anxiety bad? Excitement is okay, I guess, but I'd rather be calm. And he's always asking me questions about my past. I don't want to talk about the past. It is just that. The past," she said.

"Anxiety is not pleasant, but I don't think you are experiencing anxiety. What you seem to be experiencing is normal. You are attracted to him. You enjoy spending time with him. You seem to be in the first stages of a relationship. It's called infatuation. This is healthy as long as it doesn't impede your daily functioning, which would possibly make it obsession," Dr. Chase explained.

"What should I do?" she asked.

"Olivia, I can't tell you what to do, but I'd like to make a recommendation," he said, reaching into his desk. He pulled out a small leather booklet. "This is a journal, Olivia. I'd like you to write in this journal whenever you like, but especially when you are feeling anxious and excited. Write your feelings, your motivations, and actions. Read back over what you have written when you feel ready."

Olivia took the journal and looked at it like she'd never seen one before.

* * *

"My son ate both of the cupcakes," Fitz said. Then he yawned. It was almost midnight. Fitz had stopped by her place after work, but he could only stay for an hour since he was due to have dinner with his parents. He'd called her after his parents had gone home. They had been talking for about 90 minutes when the yawn escaped.

"Really? I'm sorry. Those cupcakes are pretty irresistible," she said.

"Gerry is like a human tornado when food, but especially any baked goods, are involved," he said.

"Are you still working?" she asked.

"Yes. I am reviewing applications for pardons and or sentence reductions. I'm having a difficult time choosing since they are all compelling stories. I'll make my final decision tomorrow or I could let you decide for me," he teased.

"I wouldn't be the best to choose. I am not very sympathetic," she said, "I'd only want to pardon turkeys. I should let you get back to work. Unfortunately, I won't be able to see you tomorrow night. I have a working dinner."

"Fortunately, we _will_ see each other tomorrow night. Isn't your working dinner at the New York Women's Foundation fundraiser?" he said.

"Yes, how did you know?" she asked, surprised.

"I, my dear, am the keynote speaker. I was working on my speech today and saw Euphoria, Inc. as one of the benefactors. We could raise some serious eyebrows if you'd be my plus one. Better yet, the folks are filled with rich people who need to be stimulated if you know what I mean. Your sales might double. You could sit at the head table," he said, trying to entice her.

"As much as I like raising eyebrows and making money, I wouldn't want to do anything to take the attention away from the fundraising or your speech," she said.

He chuckled. "Okay, I won't beg. It'll be nice to see you sitting in the audience," he said, "Sweet dreams, Olivia."

"Sweet dreams, Fitz."

When he hung up, she pulled out her journal and pen.


	11. Reflections Of

**Chapter 11**

 **Reflections Of**

* * *

"Harri…ohhhhh," said Abby. The discomfort of the document feeder tray pressing into her breast didn't register. Harrison's two fingers between her legs and the steel like hardness of him stroking into her from the back took precedence. She was close to climaxing when she heard the mechanical whirring and the hum of the copy machine waking from sleep mode.

Harrison slowed his movements. The sound snapped him out of his mindless lust, the fear of getting caught more likely now than it seemed when Abby had enticed him earlier. "What the fuck? Is that the printer? Who's here to send something to the printer?" Harrison asked, pulling back.

Abby's hips bucked her hips and reached back to hold him there. "Don't stop. I think I hit a button or something," she said. It was a lie. She would say anything to keep him going. But she was already feeling his steely penis turn flaccid and ease out of her.

"No Abby, I'm not getting caught like this again," he said, stepping back. He pulled his pants up.

Abby followed suit and redressed herself. Now the sharp pain below her breastbone finally reached her brain. "Well, you shouldn't be trying to fuck me up against the copy machine at work, Harrison." She would say anything to get him to finish her.

Harrison closed the distance between them leaving one a few inches. "You dropped your panties, bent over the machine, and told me to, Abby!"

"Too bad you are so afraid of Olivia that you couldn't finish it," she challenged.

Harrison walked to the supply closet and opened the door. He extended his arm across himself and let it direct her inside. She smiled triumphantly and sauntered into the closet. Her desire for sex with Harrison was getting out of control because she wouldn't acknowledge that she didn't want to stop nor the implications of that desire.

* * *

"Working late Deena?" Harrison said as he and Abby passed one of the employees from Accounting as they narrowly escaped the copy room. "If you sent something to the copier, you'll probably have to resend it. I think there was a glitch with the machine."

"Nooooo…really? It's going to take another 30 minutes to set it up to send to the printer again?" Deena said, raising her fists in frustration and turning on her heel to return to her office.

Abby and Harrison shared a knowing grin. They continued down the hall and slipped into her office.

"I didn't know anyone was still here. It's a Friday night. It's not like we are saving lives or anything," said Harrison.

"I'm pretty sure Liv is making them redo something. Everything is a priority with her. I should have checked the logs at the front," she said.

Harrison raised one eyebrow. "Checked the logs before you decided to proposition me?" he said.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Regardless of who propositioned whom, we shouldn't be fucking at work or at all for that matter. This has to be the last time. We were so close to getting caught—"

"You run hot and cold, Abby. When we got caught the first time, you froze me out, wouldn't talk to me. Then less than a week later you are hot for me practically begging me to fu—"

"Shut up, Harrison! Stop acting like you don't have a choice. You willingly jump back into bed with me every time," she said, angry and very much aroused at the same time. If he advanced on her again she wouldn't deny herself. Her attraction to him and how she chose to deal with it was a problem she didn't know how to solve. She turned away from him and stared out at the city's skyline, the lights blotting out the inky blackness of night.

They sat in silence for some time. Abby's breath caught in her throat when he came around and leaned against the credenza. When she finally met his gaze, he spoke. "These are the facts. We love fucking. Olivia caught us once before and she will fire our asses if she catches us again—" Harrison said, trying to continue before she interrupted.

Abby interjected. "And you are married…"

"I was getting there. And I am married. I have no plans to leave my wife. Neither of us wants to get fired. So…the fucking has to stop. But this is the important thing...when said fucking stops, you can't be mad at me as if it's my damn fault. I get mad and then…well we end up—" he said.

"Fucking…yeah I know. Sometimes I wish I was like Liv. Nothing comes before Euphoria. Nothing…no one gets in the way," Abby said wistfully.

"You don't want to be like that. It's not normal. We really don't know anything about her personal life. Family? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? I know more about the cashier guy at the corner market on 8th than I do about Olivia," Harrison said.

"That's because she's just extremely private. She has family. I'm pretty sure she is straight. But last month at the fundraiser, the one where Governor Grant gave the keynote…He seemed pretty chummy with her. He hugged her from behind and kissed her on the neck. She smiled and then he moved away. It happened so fast. Maybe I imagined it," she said.

"The governor of New York? Grant? That makes me wonder how she convinced him to let us open Spa Bliss? She never told us. Maybe they are lovers and are keeping it on the down low," he said.

Abby gave him a skeptical look. "That is not likely. He's a politician up for reelection. And Liv is…just Liv. I mean aside from having Euphoria, I can't imagine her… in anything but a business relationship."

"That's how she wants it, Abby. You just said so. She's private. For whatever reason, she doesn't want to mix her personal and professional life. That is why I think you imagined it. Maybe he bumped into her on accident," Harrison said.

"We'll never know, but it doesn't matter. I gave up trying to figure Olivia out years ago. She's an enigma," Abby said.

Harrison walked over to the door. "We should get going," he said.

"You should go, Harrison. There's no one at home waiting for me. I have a couple of things to do before I leave. But I do hear you loud and clear. No more arguing. No more fucking," she said, extending her hand for a shake.

He took her hand and pumped it once. "No more arguing. No more fucking," he repeated.

They pulled back simultaneously, hands falling back to their sides.

When he left, Abby glared at her computer screen hoping she could keep her vow.

* * *

"Fitz, read my lips," Olivia said, clasping her hands together and tilting her head to emphasize her words, "No. It is not good idea for me to have dinner with Karen and Gerry."

She refused to give in to his invitation, despite his wounded expression. But it wasn't as if she hadn't been warned. Dr. Chase had said, '"What if he wants more?"

Their relationship could only go so far. It had advanced far beyond what she could have imagined. They dined together most nights. She attended as many of his campaign events as she could. He'd even made an appearance at her office one afternoon bearing lunch. He had dressed in sunglasses and a baseball cap, masquerading as a take-out delivery man. He still hadn't revealed how he pulled that off.

On the whole, he abided by her rules. She only dined at the governor's mansion when Karen and Gerry were away. They never arrived or left a function together. She had imposed no rules about sex, but ironically, almost two months had passed and they had not consummated their relationship. The absence of sex infused an intense intimacy to their time together, an interesting paradox. Every look, every touch was electric. They'd come close a couple of times but he was always the one to stop. She wasn't sure why he stopped. Her feelings were mixed. Dr. Chase encouraged her to ask him, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. He, on the other hand, seemed to take pleasure in grilling her about everything.

Fitz watched her while he chewed his steak. Olivia finally looked away, speared a pre-cut piece of steak, and popped it into her mouth.

"Please enlighten me as to why, Olivia," he said, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

That hint of sarcasm irritated her along with this entire conversation. He wouldn't let it go. Since they sat down for dinner he started in on her about this.

She washed her steak down with a gulp of wine. She never gulped anything, but he was making her nervous. A piece of gum would be helpful now, but he didn't know about her gum needs.

"Fitz, I know your children are wonderful. I've met them once remember. Having dinner with them…I don't think…I'm not good with kids and—" she tried to explain, knowing her excuses were weak.

"Karen and Gerry are teenagers, not little kids. I don't understand your, 'I'm not good with kids.' I'm not asking you to babysit. That time at the condo wasn't a real meeting. They are my family. You are the woman I'm seeing. Help me understand why it wouldn't be a good idea," he said.

"What we have is good, Fitz. We shouldn't complicate it by—" she argued, unable to finish when he barged ahead.

"It's like our relationship don't exist outside of this house. I want to keep my private life private, yes, but not totally separate from my public life. I couldn't if I wanted to unless I was deceiving myself or trying to deceive others," he said.

Olivia was becoming increasingly frustrated and uncomfortable. In addition to his continued interruptions, she didn't have any good reasons aside from admitting she was afraid. Fear was an emotion she had avoided since high school.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. You can finish eating and see yourself out. I need a shower," she said, giving him a cursory glance and leaving the room. For a moment she thought he was going to try to stop her until she heard the clink of his fork against his plate.

When Olivia reached her bedroom, she hesitated for a moment, realizing she had cut their visit short when the anticipation of seeing him consumed her day. Was there anything she could do to salvage the night? When nothing came to mind, she stripped out of her clothes, intentionally skipping her beloved routine of placing her dirty garments in their proper color coded bins, light, dark, or dry cleaning. Instead she left them in a heap on the bathroom floor.

Gum. She needed some. There was a stash in the drawer of her vanity.

She argued with herself under the hot spray. What's so bad about one harmless dinner? She could give him that one thing. He'd been so good about not pushing her when she wouldn't answer any questions related to her past or her family.

"I'll have dinner with his children," she said aloud. Her mind ticked off all the particulars she'd need to make it a good meeting. By the time she was drying off, she felt better. There was a plan and she was considering calling him. Maybe he would come back and they could have the sea salt caramel gelato she had planned for dessert. She picked up her clothes and sorted them appropriately.

Grabbing her phone, she called him, confident in her plan to resolve this snag.

"Hello?…" he said.

Olivia ignored the question in his voice. He must think her slightly unstable for calling so soon after making him leave.

"I apologize for walking out like that. You can come back if you'd like. I bought gelato," she said, enthusiastically. The three successive pops of her gum reminded her she hadn't discarded it. She pulled it from her mouth and tossed it in her small trash can.

"I didn't leave, Olivia. I'm still here cleaning up the kitchen," he said, "Are you chewing gum?"

A jolt of sensation passed through her body. Looking down, she remembered she was naked. She glanced at the door knowing that it and a couple of yards were the only things separating him from her naked body. She placed the phone on the bed and tied the towel around her body. She locked the bedroom door to prevent her feet from carrying her across the threshold where she would offer herself to him spread eagle on the dining room table. The visual of what her mind was daring her to do sent another jolt through her.

"Oh, ok," she said, after grabbing the phone again, "Give me 10 minutes."

She threw on jeans and a t-shirt and pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

When she returned to the kitchen, she saw that he had nearly finished putting away the food and loading the dishwasher. Containers of food were on the counter beside the refrigerator. Two pans were resting on the island. He was squatting in front of the open kitchen island cabinet surveying the contents. Instantly, she knew he was trying to find where she kept those two pans. She chuckled at the picture he made.

"Call a cabinet meeting. I've stumped the governor," she teased.

Olivia retrieved the two pans and walked across the kitchen to cabinet next to the spice rack. She placed the pans in the lower cabinet.

"I never would have looked there. Why wouldn't you put those with the other pans here under the kitchen island?" he asked.

She smiled at his question. "I don't use those pans very often. I keep the tools I use the most in this cabinet for ease of use," she explained as she put the leftovers away in the refrigerator.

"Far be it from me to upset your highly sophisticated kitchen organizational system. I've been in this kitchen so many times and I still haven't figured it out. Do you change it when I'm not here?" he asked, sauntering over to her and pulling her into his arms.

He wasn't upset with her. She could see that in his expression. His tone wasn't strained or challenging like before. "I'm glad you stayed," she said, savoring the comfort of his strong arms and inhaling his scent. She pulled back but kept her arms wrapped loosely around him.

"I…I will have dinner with Karen and Gerry," she said, "I was being unreasonable earlier."

He narrowed his eyes and stared at her with a chess player's concentration. This was not the reaction she expected. Instead of being happy that he was getting what he wanted, he was trying to interpret her. He did this a lot. She didn't like it.

"Aren't you going to say something, Fitz? I am agreeing to officially meet them. I am giving you what you want. So doesn't that make you happy?" she asked.

The seconds ticked by, literally, on the kitchen wall clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. It grew louder like a crescendo.

"Fitz..." she said, a nervous laugh escaping.

"No, that does not make me happy," he said, reaching up and rubbing his fingers against her neck where beads of water from her shower still rested. "Don't do this to make me happy, Olivia. I don't know what came over me. Please accept my apology for pushing you to something you don't want to do. Sometimes I forget and overstep the boundaries. I should go. Walk me out."

Before she could respond, he walked into her living room in search of his phone.

A deep frown creased her brow and she followed behind him. "Wait. You can't just leave like that. How can you get mad now after I told you I _would_ have dinner with them? What else do you want from me?" she pleaded.

Fitz wouldn't look up from his phone. She knew he was checking his missed texts and e-mails which made her angry. She grabbed his phone and tossed it on the sofa.

He followed its path to the sofa like he was watching a one-sided tennis match. He looked at her. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?

"Yes!" she demanded.

"Why are you so angry?" he said, calmly, taking a seat next to the sofa.

"Because you are frustrating the living hell out of me, Fitz!" she said, raising her hands, fingers splayed out in front of her, "You say you want me to get to know your kids. I say no at first. You get mad. Now, I am saying yes. But you are mad and leaving!"

It was as if Olivia was observing their exchange like a fly on the wall instead of fully participating in it. She didn't understand why she was so outwardly angry. It wasn't making sense. His desire to leave should be okay. Her desperation at the thought of him leaving was totally out of character for her. She wanted to reign herself in but she had gone too far out on this mental ledge to walk back.

"Sweetheart, I'm sitting here in this chair. I am not mad. I am not leaving. Why don't you have a seat on the sofa and we can talk," he said, gently.

Olivia felt an overwhelming since of déjà vu. She had been here before, lashing out. Looking like an angry, irrational idiot. She thought of her parents and Dr. Chase. They were the ones who were usually on the receiving end of her tirades, but this hadn't happened in years.

She took a seat, suddenly embarrassed. Her eyes fell to her open palm resting beside her thigh on the sofa. Using her thumb nail, she began pushing back the cuticles on each of her nails. She wouldn't look at him.

"I'm not mad at you. If you don't want to have dinner with Karen and Gerry that is fine. You've been clear that you want to keep our relationship private. I know you have been going to my campaign events even though you don't want to...all for me. You've compromised for me. So meeting Karen and Gerry…is an even bigger compromise. Despite what I've asked, you don't have to do it. I just want you to tell me why. If you could help me understand why you are so closed to opening up to people outside of business, that would help…I want the same thing from you I said that night months before. I want to know you…really know you. So when you changed your mind so quickly, I didn't trust it. I would rather you say no, if that is what you want. Just tell me the truth about why," he explained.

Olivia stopped fiddling with her fingers and stared at him. "I don't believe you, Fitz. I make a very fine living selling tools that help people find whatever brand of sexual pleasure they want. I would argue that helps people get to know themselves and each other. But since we've been together, you have not tried to have sex with me once. Every time we get close, you stop. Why is that?"

He gave her a confused look and rose to his feet. Sitting beside her on the sofa, he planted his hands on her shoulders. "You completely confound me, Olivia. I'm not sure if you are trying to dodge a real conversation here or if you really want to know the answer to that question," he said, his eyes boring into hers as if his gaze could pin her down and uncover what was beneath.

"I don't usually ask rhetorical questions," she said.

Fitz dropped his hands and slid to the other side of the sofa, pressing his back against the sofa's armrest. He crossed his arms. "I apologize for not making it clear that I want to make love to you. When I kiss you, I always wonder what it would be like to kiss you between your legs. I have an idea of how it might be because my fingers have been there. Softer. I think I am..No, I know I am obsessed with that part of you. Tasting that part of you. Burying my nose and tongue as far inside you as it will go so I will never forget how you smell or taste. It boggles my mind because I've never had that reaction to any woman I've been with even when I was a sex-crazed teenage boy," he explained. He shifted in his seat and turned around resting his hands in his head. "I'm rock hard thinking about it now. This happens a lot now at the most inconvenient times." He turned back around and faced her.

Olivia glanced at the bulge between his legs but looked away meeting his face. Her nipples itched and there was a stinging sensation deep inside her that only he could soothe.

"I want that, Fitz," she whispered, moving closer to him. She didn't realize she was rubbing his hardness until he took in a ragged breath and covered her hand with his. She continued rubbing him.

"I'm afraid of how you will react after we have sex, Olivia," he admitted, grabbing her wrist," "Hell, I am afraid of how I will react."

 _Does he know about me? How could he know?_ She thought. She began to move away, but he held her still, pulling her onto his lap.

"Our relationship seems so fragile sometimes. I'd rather alternate between blue tinged balls or giving myself a hand job than having you shut me out," he said.

She gave a mirthless chuckle. "So you are saying that I have given you a reason to think that sex with you is going to blow my mind…is going to scare me into some crazed irrational state? What about me screams emotionally unstable?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level steady. Would he forget about how the last couple of minutes? Even as she spoke, she knew she was playing with fire, dancing around the flame, of her past. Fitz had her pegged even if he didn't know all the details. He could tell something was wrong with her sexually. It was time to bury this once and for all. She had to have sex with him. She had to prove to him and herself that she was normal. It helped that her desire for him was like an overfilled balloon, ready to pop.

"Let me up," she said, hopping off his lap.

He complied. She grabbed his hand. "I need to show you something," she said.

She led him into the bedroom and stopped at the foot of her bed. She looked around and eyed her white ottoman. After placing it directly in front of the bed, she directed him to sit.

She began to undress, discarding a garment at a time as she spoke.

"You say…" She pulled her t-shirt over her head and dropped it at her feet.

"you are…" She tossed her bra at his feet.

"obsessed…" she unzipped her jeans and stepped out of them, kicking them to the side.

She stopped her strip tease to see his reaction since her eyes had not met his yet. She couldn't read his expression. His jaw was slack and he wasn't looking at her face. She took that as a good sign.

"with kissing me here…" She shimmied out of her panties, but she hesitated, overtaken by doubt about what he would do. He stood.

Her voice was shaky so she stopped talking and hopped up on the bed. She leaned back on the bed raised her legs, bending them at the knees. All she heard was her own breathing. She was shivering but she not from a chill. It was part arousal. Part nervousness. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see him, though she knew he was in the room. Her hand moved to her quivering stomach in hopes of calming her nerves. She covered her eyes with her forearm, ensuring she couldn't see. This also heightened the anticipation of when he would or would not touch her.

Olivia jumped when she felt a warm hand on her knee. She didn't open her eyes only squeezed her eyes tighter.

"Look at me," he said.

Olivia moved her arm and opened her eyes. He was standing above her with a serious, probing expression that was looking for a reason to stop.

"Is this the look of obsession?…" she said, her bold words betrayed by her shaky voice.

He gave her a lazy smile and knelt between her legs. She breathed in and braced herself for whatever was to come. What she felt was a light warmth like breath at her opening. The next thing she felt were his lips against her. His fingers pulled her back and his tongue dipped inside. She squeezed her toes together gripping the bed. It felt like a tickle. She smiled to herself. His tongue traced the insides of her folds and she shivered, wondering if that was an orgasm. It was a nice sensation, but nothing like all the writhing and moaning she had observed from women in this position on television or in videos. As soon as those women were touched between their legs, they would begin breathing hard and sighing in release. Olivia found those to be too staged. Pure acting.

Now that she was that woman in real life, legs open with a man's head bobbing back and forth, she wasn't so sure it was that easy. Olivia wanted him to continue, but so far she wasn't that impressed. Strangely, the control she felt made her comfortable and relaxed. She let her legs go limp, forcing him to hold them for her. He pushed his face into her and she felt the bridge of his nose sink into her. She gasped and he pushed deeper. Soon she couldn't delineate what he was doing or what he was using to do it. It all felt nice, but she was still waiting for the orgasm. Wasn't he supposed to touch her clitoris for that? He had only licked her there once. His tongue traveled up and down the length of her until he pulled back and began lightly sucking and licking the swollen nub of flesh. She moved her hips against his tongue. The sensation felt very good. Her hips pumped against his face. The sounds she made her very unfamiliar, but she couldn't stop. Two of his fingers replaced his mouth and it only took two strokes before she lost control and let the undeniable orgasm rip through her.

When she caught her breath, she realized her was there beside her. He leaned over to kiss her and that strange mixture on his mouth was her scent. He pulled back and she smiled at her. "How are you?" he said.

"I'm good. How are you?" she said.

"I'm pretty messed up right now. I need to take a personal moment in the bathroom," he admitted.

She frowned trying to figure out what he meant. He was still fully clothed. Her eyes fell to the his crotch, a reminder that they had more to do. Olivia rolled over and pulled a condom from her bedside table. Before he could protest, she hastily unzipped his jeans and unbuckled his belt in that order.

"We don't have to do this tonight, Olivia," he said. She was encouraged that he didn't stop her as she hopped off the bed and removed his pants.

"Take off your own shirt," she said, reaching for the condom packet.

She rolled the condom down the length of all his majesty. The sheer size of him alarmed her. Technically, she wasn't a virgin, but she hadn't had consensual sex during her adult life. Could she pretend otherwise? That was what she was going to find out.

She stretched out beside him. He moved on top and settled between her legs. He bent over to kiss her while grinding his hips into hers. Olivia reached between them and positioned him against her opening. He moved over each breast and sucked hard while his hand slid lower, over her abdomen and into her mound massaging her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and braced for him.

He pushed and prodded himself inside, slowly allowing her to adjust around him. She winced and he immediately pulled out. "No," she said.

"But I'm hurting you," he said.

"It feels good," she said. That was a lie. It hurt. She didn't know if she was abnormally small or if he was freakishly large. She didn't dare ask him.

"Try again, please," she said. "Don't wait just go all the way."

He held her hips still and pushed into her as far as he could go. They both hollered out. For Olivia the pressure took her breath away, but it was better with each stroke, slow at first and then quick and steady. His face crumpled like he was in deep agony before he collapsed on top of her. After he caught his breath, he rolled off her. His penis wasn't as hard as before but it wasn't back to its unaroused state.

"Did you…finish?" she asked.

"Oh yes. Sometimes, it takes a couple of minutes to go back to normal. I'll be right back," he said.

When he left, she heard the sound of him urinating. There was something wet between her legs. She felt there and saw some blood on her fingers. Before she could get up to tend to herself. He appeared in the door naked, his penis returned to its resting state but no less magnificent.

"There is blood on the condom, Olivia. Please tell me this wasn't your first time," he said, "Though that would explain some things."

She slipped off the bed. Even though the blood was minimal, it stood out against the blistering white comforter.

She frowned at him. "Why can't the blood signify the start of my menstrual cycle?" she said, passing him and closing the door to the toilet behind her.

"Well, I think I would have noticed that considering I had better than a bird's-eye view before," he said through the door.

"I can assure you I am not a 30 year-old virgin, okay," she said, cleaning between her legs. When she opened the door, he was standing there waiting for her, arms crossed.

She put on her shower cap. "I'm about to take a shower. Do you want to join me?" she offered.

"How about a bath? I'll get it started. You are probably itching to change that soiled comforter," he offered.

"Okay," she said, feeling quite good. She'd had sex and the world was still on its axis.

A little later they sat in the claw footed tub facing each other, her foot was braced against his chest. She was beginning to doze off. He tapped her foot. "So how old were you when you had sex for the first time?" he asked.

She was fully awake now. Here she was once again, dancing too close to the flame. "I don't kiss and tell," she said, infusing playfulness in her voice.

"We need to decide on a date for me to have a sit down with Karen and Gerry. I'd rather do breakfast, and I am not opposed to meeting in public," she said, hoping he wouldn't ask her anything about her past sexual experience. She moved into his arms settling her back to his chest.

He hugged her tightly. "I'll talk to them tomorrow," he said.

* * *

"The applications have been processed and sent for verification. All we need to do now is notify the claimants and publish it in the newspapers. I do think we should use one of these cases to highlight the need to reform of our criminal justice system. And I have just the case we can use, sir." said Cyrus.

"Let me guess, Ronald Levine," said Fitz. He stretched his arms and linked his hands behind his head.

"Yes, the question is how can a swim coach go to prison and Rikers of all places for 15 years for only two counts of tax evasion? Each time he comes up for parole, it is denied like clockwork. The more I dig into this, sir, the worse it gets," Cyrus said.

"When will he be out?" Fitz asked.

"In about a month, just in time for election day. But we will have a plan before then. In the meantime, we need to discuss Olivia Pope, sir. Since you've made it crystal clear that you are dating, we have to be ready. It will be only a matter of time before someone, notices her at your events," Cyrus said, grimly.

"Fitz sat up straight. What if we leak it, Cyrus. In that way, we can control the narrative. We are having breakfast Saturday morning with Karen and Gerry. Call our contact at the _Post_ and—"

"Sir, I was referring to developing a contingency plan if someone found out about you two. I don't think it is a good idea to bring it out until after you win the election," he said.

"What would the aim of such a plan be, Cyrus? To cover it up? Explain it away? There is no need for that. You need to know that Olivia is not going anywhere. You need to make peace with that and do your job," Fitz said.

"Yes, sir," he said, grimly. He left the room.

Fitz's cell phone rang. It was Karen. "Daddy, don't be mad, but I sort of told Nana we were going to meet your girlfriend on Saturday," she said.

"How could you sort of tell Nana that, Karen?" he asked, though he knew his mother was an expert at getting the information she wanted by asking the right questions at the right time. No doubt she would be able to uncover all Olivia's secrets if she had enough time, but Fitz would never subject her to his mother's scrutiny, at least not yet.

"Well, Dad she is always asking how you are doing? It's like she can read my mind or something," Karen said.

"It's okay. I'll talk to Nana. I'm having an early dinner with Olivia tonight. So I'll be home before you get back from Nana's," he said.

"Okay, daddy. See you later," she said.

A day had passed since they'd made love. He had replayed the whole episode in his mind several times, trying to understand how their argument had resulted in lovemaking. His head was still spinning at the leaps they had made in the course of one evening. It had been quite a roller coaster. He didn't regret it, but he knew she wasn't fully present and a full participant from start to finish. It had not been in his plan to make love to her that night because he knew she wasn't ready. There was so much more to know about Olivia. It would take time, but she was worth the effort.

* * *

"I thought you would be pleased with me, Dr. Chase," Olivia said, her brow furrowed, "I had sex with my boyfriend and everything is okay. It was not a trigger for me. It did hurt some physically, but that is to be expected the first time, right? The most important thing is that Ronald Levine nor what he did to me had an impact on me at all."

"Are you sure about that, Olivia," Dr. Chase said, flipping back through his pad, "You say that Fitzgerald asked you about your first sexual partner, has asked you several times about your past in general, and feels there is some issue with you have surrounding sex. Why haven't you told him?"

"Why would I share that with anyone especially if I am over it? Now that we've successfully had sex, he won't keep questioning me about sex and my past, Dr. Chase. It is a non-issue now," she said.

Dr. Chase scribbled on his pad. "Is that why you had sex with him? To seem normal? Or to keep him at arm's length?"

"I am sexually attracted to him, but you are right, I don't want him to know about that. He will see me differently…" Olivia felt her new found liberation dwindling.

"Our time is about up, Olivia. I think we need to explore the extent to which you feel shame about what happened. We haven't talked about shame in years. I am happy that you are feeling good about being intimate with Fitzgerald. I just want you to explore your motivations for that intimacy and the energy you give out as a result. You will find that in relationships, your mate is just a mirror. He will reflect what you show him," he explained.

On the drive home, Olivia chewed on her chewing gum trying to decipher Dr. Chase's riddle. Then she pushed it out of her mind. She refused to allow anything to cast a shadow on her new found liberation.


	12. Past Present

**Chapter 12**

 **Sixteen years ago**

Olivia pumped her legs as hard as she could while pounding her arms into the water. Her neck swiveled from side to side in perfect synchronicity, granting her access to the needed gulp of air just as Coach Davidson had taught her. The screams of the spectators were muffled, but she could picture her family, coach, and teammates screaming her name.

"Go Carrie Go! You can do! Come on! Baby!"

Olivia finally reached the wall filled with the anticipation of victory. Usually she could tell if she'd won, could feel it. She didn't know for sure until she reached the wall, ripped off her goggles, and peered at the leader board.

Her heart sank when she saw O. Pope beaming beside the number 2. She wiped the beads of water from her eyes, hoping she had read it wrong. She had not. The only consolation she found was knowing her father wasn't there to see her failure. He was at work today.

She took a deep breath dunked in the water as if to wash off the disappointment. When she broke the surface, she searched out the winner to congratulate him.

* * *

"Mom, I'm not hungry. I ate at the after meet social," Olivia said with a sigh resting her head on her hand and gazing at her overly chipper mother. She couldn't understand the source of her mother's excitement. She'd come in second place when first place was the only option.

Maya smiled at her daughter, cupping her jaw, and nudging her up. "Honey, sit up straight. I know you wanted first place but think about it. At 13, you are competing with college students, the very best. That is why we are here. I have a surprise for you," she said.

Before Olivia could respond, a man approached their table. He seemed just as excited as Maya, brandishing a wide smile.

"Carrie, I'd like you to meet Mr. Ronald Levine, your new swim coach," Maya said.

Her mother's words snapped her out of the funk of second place to a state of confused surprise. She frowned.

"New coach? But what…" Why do I —" Olivia said.

"It's great to meet you, Olivia. I know this is a shock," Ronald said as he joined them at their table, "but you are an amazing athlete who needs to go to the next level. With all due respect to Coach Davidson, you've outgrown him and his team. Today you came in second place to a 19 year-old who will probably be competing in the national championships next year. That should be you. With your remarkable talent, I can take you all the way to the Olympics.

Olivia's eyes widened. She looked from Ronald's face to her mom's. "Really? But…what does Daddy say? Does he know, Mom?"

Maya reached across the table and covered Olivia's hand. "You let me worry about your father."

* * *

Olivia pressed her ear closer to the wall. She felt guilty for eavesdropping on her parents.

"We don't know anything about this guy Maya. He doesn't have a team. Olivia doesn't need a personal coach. She was doing well on a team with Coach Davidson. When the time is right she will qualify for a national team," Eli said.

"I checked him out and his references. He is legit. He was an allstar and qualified for the Olympic team. I was thinking he could personally coach Olivia for two years. Her success would help him build a team. It's a win-win," Maya said, "and we won't have to pay as much for the lessons."

"The money is no problem, but if you think it is best. I'll go along. We can give this personal swim coach a try, but we can't push her too much, Maya," said Eli with a sigh.

"Thanks honey. We've never had to push Carrie," said Maya, "she pushes herself. She wants this.

* * *

 **Current Day**

"So, Olivia have you and Fitzgerald set a date for you to meet his children?" asked Dr. Chase.

"Yes. It is actually set for tomorrow morning, breakfast in public," she said, flipping through a magazine she had been reading as she waited in the lobby for her session. She hadn't been able to resist the article about the teenage brain. She thought it might be helpful preparation for sharing a meal with teenagers.

"What do you think you will talk about? Have you thought about what you'll ask them or what they might ask you?" Dr. Chase inquired.

Olivia gave him a thoughtful glance. "Not really. I haven't really thought about preparing for it," she said.

"Oh, so you are reading about the teenage brain out of simple curiosity?" said Dr. Chase.

Olivia placed the magazine on the table and gave him a small smile. "It can't be too difficult to talk to them," she said, "Teenagers are self-centered right? I'll

pepper them with questions about their lives. I doubt they will ask much about me."

Mr. Chase jotted down notes and then considered her thoughtfully. "What if they ask you about your job? What if talking about them causes you to think about yourself at their age? It could be a trigger. You aren't around teenagers much so—"

Olivia rose to her feet and walked the floor to ceiling window, peering out. "I'm not worried about that. I plan to tell them I sell spa and lifestyle products," she reasoned before turning back to Dr. Chase, "I know it's your job to help me anticipate triggers, Dr. Chase, but it's not necessary."

There was a long silence before Dr. Chase spoke. Olivia moved back to the sofa. "Okay, then. Let's talk about your parents."

Olivia couldn't contain the laugh that escaped her lips. The sound was jarring, nothing like real laughter. "My parents?" she said, her brows knitting together, when sarcastic laughter didn't work on Dr. Chase.

"Yes, your parents. We haven't talked about them since you've been coming regularly. When was the last time you saw them?" he asked.

"This is a not a topic for discussion unless I say so. That is our rule remember," Olivia said, tightly.

"I'm changing the rules. When was the last time you spoke with Maya or Elijah Pope," Dr. Chase said.

Olivia's eyes narrowed at his use of their names. Anger was beginning to bubble within her. "I know what you are trying to do and it is not fair, Dr. Chase. Stop trying to bait me into some emotional response about them," she said.

"I'm not trying to bait you," he said.

"What are you trying to do? You know I don't talk about my parents," she said.

Dr. Chase placed his notepad on the nearby table. "Why don't you want to talk about you mother and father. I don't recall you telling me they were off limits during these re recent sessions," he said.

"My mom called me recently. She wanted me to call her back. I didn't and don't plan to. So please understand. They are off the table. You know why," she said.

"Yes, but I want you to say it out loud," he said.

"With the utmost respect Dr. Chase, everything is not an issue that needs to be picked over," she said, "I'll see you next time.

* * *

Olivia kept hearing Dr. Chase, 'I want you to say it out loud.' She knew he was trying to help her, but she couldn't say it: My mother didn't believe me. The thought made her shiver. She closed the file she'd been trying to read and dialed Fitz.

"How do you do that?" Fitz said, a note of awe in his voice.

"Do what?" she said. Hearing his voice was an instant boost out of the vortex.

"You call me when I think about you," he answered.

"Hmm. You must not think about me much. This is the first time I'm calling you today," she said, "but don't think of a snappy comeback. How are you?"

"I'm happy that my girlfriend called. You've made my Friday. I'll be even happier to see you this evening," he said.

Olivia grinned. She was just as happy to see him later as well, but now she wanted to talk to him about her therapy session. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Her chest tightened.

"Guess what Karen did?" Fitz said.

"I have no clue," Olivia said.

"She—and these are her words— sort of told my mother we were all going to breakfast. This is an indication that my family will want to meet you soon," he said, "but I'll hold them off for as long as you need."

Olivia could hear it in his voice, the protection, the care, the deference. Even though he had no idea of her past he could sense that she was broken somehow, scarred and in need of protection. Olivia, was both attracted to and resistant to his protection. Part of her wanted to tell him everything. Would he be repulsed that she didn't fight back? Would he be skeptical, have doubt when he knew the whole story?

How could he not be skeptical when her own mother had been? But she had made the mistake of not telling her parents the first time her coach touched her. She was 13 and old enough to know what he was doing was wrong. She had endured through those eye roll inducing good touch, bad touch classes at school. After awhile she didn't notice it, ignored it until he…

 _Carrie, we love each other. We must be together. You just qualified for the national team. Our hard work has paid off. But this is more than just swimming. This is love. I know you told Maya about us. She didn't do anything because she knows we are meant to be together. It's been more than a year you are almost 15…_

"Olivia, what's wrong? Are you crying?" Fitz asked.

She didn't know where she was, who she was until she heard his voice. She inhaled deeply but her breath choked on the exhale. Where had she gone? Why was she crying? She knew the answers to these questions, but didn't want to acknowledge the answers.

 _I'm not losing control, she thought._

"I might be developing a bug...a cold. I've been sneezing and sniffling all morning. I'm working long hours and following you around to fundraisers and campaign events. A body can only take so much," she said. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed the tears from her eyes.

"That didn't sound like sneezing, Liv. I can clear my schedule for the rest of the day. Election day is in 4 days and we have prepared well. Can you meet me at the condo?" he asked.

"Exactly. Election day is in 4 days. You have to finish strong. Isn't that what they say? I'm fine, Fitz. I'll see you tonight. I have to go. Someone is knocking on my door. Bye," she said, hanging up before he could respond.

Olivia loosened the bow of her blouse and stepped out of her heels. She sank to the floor and prostrated her body on the floor. The smell of chlorine assaulted her senses. Squeezing her eyes shut she willed it away, realizing it was just a figment of her memory. The smell disappeared, but it was replaced by Ronald Levine's face. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to will his face away. She thought about Dr. Chase and was filled with anger. This was his fault. He was the one who planted this in her head. Olivia wanted to march into his office and demand a session. Unfortunately, she didn't have the time to do that. She needed something, a distraction.

In five minutes she was put back together and sitting at her desk, reading the file on David Oshiro, Harrison had prepared. She dialed his number.

"Hello," he said.

"David! Olivia Pope. How are you?" she said. Her voice was vibrant and booming.

There was a pause before he answered. She knew he was trying to figure out why she was calling him and how she got his cell phone number.

"Ms. Pope, hello," he said, partly hesitant, partly curious.

"You're probably wondering why I'm calling. I won't keep you in suspense. You've probably heard about my recent expansion," she said, pausing for his acknowledgement.

"Yes, of course. SpaBliss," he acknowledged.

"And you know I have one of Lotus' own working for me, Abiba Mashalaba. Do you know her," Olivia said, feigning ignorance.

"Yes. I know her…um…yes. We worked in different departments, but I knew her…of her," David said.

"Well, she is great. One of the best decisions I've made since opening SpaBliss. I'm going to do everything I can to keep her, but I imagine being a working mother will be challenging. Now for the reason I called you. I'd—"

"Working mother? What do you mean?" David said.

Olivia grinned. Relishing this feeling. "Oops! I probably shouldn't have said anything, but I'm so happy for her. She's expecting a baby. A couple of months, I think. But as to the reason I contacting you. I want to offer you a job," she said.

Silence. Olivia knew he was reacting to the pregnancy news and not her job offer. In a single phone call she'd changed two lives. Abiba needed to reckon with the real reason she left Lotus. Olivia knew that for certain.

"Ms. Pope, I am interested in hearing more about your job offer, but I really have to go. Something just came across my desk that I have to attend to. Can I call you tomorrow? I'm so sorry, but I really—"

"Oh it is no problem. I completely understand. I'll call you back on Monday," she said before disconnecting the line.

Olivia now had a second wind to get some work done.

* * *

He wasn't going to stop searching. Olivia could see it in his eyes as he watched her spoon up the chicken soup. When he had arrived at her house with chicken soup and tea, she was reminded of her lie from earlier that day. He probably didn't really believe she was coming down with a cold, but he brought brought the goodies all the same.

"Thanks for the soup. I feel better already, Fitz," she said with a smile.

"Are you up for having breakfast in the morning. We could reschedule it. I need you well for election day. I need all the voters I can get," he said with a smirk.

Olivia sighed. He was trying to protect her again. She was angry with herself and the weakness she obviously projected. "No, I'm fine. You are going to win, Governor Grant, and then I will rarely see you, I suspect. I'll have to make an appointment with Ms. Hanley for the occasional dinner," she said.

Fitz reached across the table and grabbed her hand. He examined it, inside and out before enveloping it in his. He sighed. "Come here," he said.

Olivia put her spoon beside the bowl and pushed it away. She walked around the table and sat on his lap. He hugged her and kissed her gently on the lips.

He pulled back and looked at her. She smiled at him, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his arms. The events of earlier today were far away from her now. "I love you, Olivia. In case you didn't already know that. I need to say it. I know there is something…something between us…something you are afraid of telling me. I don't know what it is. I'm not going to rush you. Whatever it is, I don't care," he said.

"Fitz, there is nothing between us, no big secret I am keeping. I am a business woman who makes calculations to advance those interests. I'll share this with you. I did go to college despite what I said in the Vanity Fair article and I did work on a small political campaign after I graduated. I don't believe in marriage, and I don't want to have children. I enjoy spending time with you, Fitz. I like you. I respect you. I am attracted to you, but I know our relationship in this form will not last. You are going to want more than I can give you. Then you will resent me. I won't have that. Just because I am different doesn't mean I'm keeping something from you," she said.

What looked like anger flashed across his face for a brief moment, before he turned away. Olivia knew he didn't want to accept her words, but she was surprised by his chuckle.

He turned back to face her with a surprising smile on his face. "So, please enlighten me. What form will our relationship finally take? I want to plan ahead. Oh and thank you for protecting me from my inevitable resentment," he said.

Olivia ignored the sarcasm he didn't try to hide. She fingered the hair resting on his collar. "Confidantes, friends, who meet for the occasional dinner or coffee, provided your significant other will tolerate you meeting with me. Given my line of work, I predict she will have a problem with you seeing me. She will be convinced you won't resist me if I try to seduce you or steal you away."

This brought more chuckles from him. "Wow, you have given our future a lot of thought. I haven't thought much about our future, Olivia. All I know is that I love you and plan to show up every day for us. I am not going anywhere. You may think you know what I want, but here it from the horse's mouth: I want you, today. We are in this together. I don't have some grand 30, 60, 90 day plan for us. I'm taking it one day at a time."

He kissed her and pulled back before she was ready for him to stop. "I have to go," Liv.

She nodded in lieu of speaking. Her voice would break if she spoke right now. She stood and took a sip of her tepid tea. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning at the café," she said.

"Yes," he said, "We will see you there."

* * *

"Marty, I can't believe you did it. You got me out," said Ronald. The cold black phone never felt so good.

"Well it was a long shot that paid off. When you are released you have to promise me you will get on the first plane to get as far away from her as possible. Elijah Pope has to know you are getting out. He's going to try everything he can to stop it. He'll leave you alone if you disappear. Promise me you will disappear," Martin demanded.

Ronald read between the lines. Martin wanted him to promise to stay away from Olivia. Why would he even think about trying to find her? Wasn't she the reason he had been locked up, rotting in jail for the last 15 years. He went in jail as a 30 year old man and was now leaving as a 45 year old nobody. The only consolation was that he didn't have the stain of a being a sexual offender on his record. Eli Pope wasn't able to put him behind bars for anything but tax evasion.

He wasn't the monster Elijah Pope made him out to be. Had it not been for him, maybe he and Carrie would be together, married with kids and Olympic medals to show for it. He was happy to finally have his freedom thanks to that governor's commutation. But before he disappeared, he had to see her one last time to see if she was okay. First he had to get out of here and find out where she was living.

* * *

It wasn't so bad. Olivia was laughing at a story Gerry was telling about the time Fitz bombed at career day.

"To make matters worse, he tried to rap in one last ditch effort to redeem himself. He was actually booed!" said Gerry.

"And it took two months before people stopped talking about it," said Karen.

Olivia glanced at Fitz who was taking it all in stride.

"I wish you all had it on video. I would love to see that," Olivia said.

"Okay, Okay…enough about that," said Fitz, "What can I say, I don't know how to bow out gracefully."

They shared another laugh and a quiet settled over the table. Olivia ticked through a number of topics she could bring up so she could control the conversation.

"So…how did you and dad meet," Karen asked before Olivia could speak.

Olivia looked at Fitz. "Your father didn't tell you?" she asked.

"Well he did, but I'm sure there's more to it. He said you were lobbying for your business and had a meeting with him," Karen explained.

Olivia took a sip of coffee and crossed her arms across her chest. "Yes, that's about right. We were in conflict because he didn't want to support my cause. He eventually came around," she said.

"That sounds like Dad.. eventually coming around," said Gerry.

"Well we hate to eat and run, but we have a swim meet this evening. Our coach called an early practice. We will see you later dad. Nice meeting you, Olivia. You are welcome to come if you want," said Karen.

Olivia's stomach turned but she plastered a smile on her face to make it through the goodbyes. They watched as the black SUV whisked them away.

Olivia tried to control the shake in her voice. "So how long have they been swimming?" she said.

"Since elementary school. Seems like forever. They love it, though." said Fitz.

Olivia didn't know what to say, but she was convinced that some unseen force was trying to destroy her. No matter what she did, her past wouldn't leave her be.

/

Thanks for reading...


	13. The Election Upset

**Chapter 13**

 **The Election Upset**

* * *

Olivia examined the pastel colored tulips ensconced in the thick crystal vase on her desk. When she had walked into her office and encountered them earlier that morning, she'd initially thought they were from Fitz. Unexpected bouquets were a rarity in Olivia's life. Fitz and everything that came with him was the definition of unexpected. The intimation of Fitzgerald Grant had lifted her spirits from the usual focused determination of her morning routine to a joy of which she wasn't accustomed. Rick's presence hadn't registered. He had walked behind her into the office playing the role of nosey receptionist and said, "I've never seen that smile before, Ms. Pope. Now that should be a gif."

Normally, Olivia would have responded curtly to the newly hired receptionist, but she didn't respond at all, intent on reading the card. But there hadn't been a card. "Is that burning coffee I smell?" she'd said. This had snapped Rick out of his inappropriate familiarity, and he'd fled in search of work.

Shortly after he left, Olivia had called Fitz. He never mentioned the flowers only reminded her of the time they were meeting at the condo to watch the returns today, a confirmation he hadn't sent them. All through the day, her mind kept returning to the tulips. With each passage of time, a sense of dread filled her, and she didn't know why.

Now as she continued to examine them, racking her brain as to the sender, she jumped at the sound of a knock on the door. It opened before Olivia could really register it.

"Ms. Pope, please excuse this interruption," said Frances, her assistant, slipping inside the door, "but Ms. Mashalaba is demanding to see you without an appointment. I tried to persuade her to make an appointment but—"

Olivia had hired Frances shortly after Abby's indiscretions. Prior to that, Abby used to handle Olivia's calendar through her own assistant. After she'd disciplined her, Olivia thought it prudent to put some professional distance between them. Frances had served as a good buffer thus far and an extremely competent assistant.

"Frances, I'll see her," Olivia said, rising from her chair and walking to door.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Pope. She wouldn't listen to reason," she said.

"It's not a problem," Olivia said, opening the door to a stone faced Abiba who breezed past them and into the office.

Frances narrowed her eyes at Abiba before returning her gaze to Olivia. "I'm just a phone call away," she said just before walking through the threshold and closing the door.

Olivia drew in a deep breath and walked back to her desk where Abiba stood in front of a chair. The hostility was loud even though Abiba hadn't yet uttered a word.

"Sit, Abiba. How can I help you?" Olivia said.

Abiba did not comply. She crossed her arms. "I want to know why, Olivia. Just tell me why?" Abiba said. Her voice did not match her demeanor. It was thin and tremulous as if she was afraid or had just been crying.

Olivia frowned at the accusation in her voice and said, "I don't know what you are referring to. You are obviously upset about something. Please have a seat and tell me."

Abiba looked as if she wanted to protest. Common sense won out and she sat down. "Did you…tell David about…the…my pregnancy?"

Realization set in like a ton of bricks. Three things were undeniable. Olivia had called David Oshiro, shamelessly let the baby news slip, and offered him a job. This was the definition of paternalism, but her motives were simpler. She had been in distress and needed something to take her mind off of it. She couldn't tell Abiba this.

"I called David and offered him a job. Sharing the baby news was an honest gaffe on my part. At the time I forgot you two were once involved," Olivia explained, letting the lie settle in the room.

"Why would you offer him a job? You don't need another designer. That's why it makes no sense. You don't do things on a whim. Why did you do this? I demand to know why? This is my life you are meddling with!" Abiba demanded.

Olivia didn't know what to say, so she asked a question. "What happened, Abiba?"

Abiba flashed a contemptuous glance her way. "He is effectively back in my life. That is what happened. If you hire him, I'll quit," she challenged.

Olivia observed Abiba carefully. She was dressed in her usual earthy, bohemian finery. Her locs were up in a high bun with a few errant tendrils escaping. Her face had filled out in Olivia's mind due to her progressing pregnancy. This is position Olivia liked to be in when interacting with others, the observer, the director, or both.

"I don't take ultimatum's," Olivia said calmly, scooting forward in her chair, "We've had our share of differences since I hired you, Abiba, which from your perspective, may be unsettling and uncomfortable. I can handle conflict and disagreement in the context of my business. In fact, I thrive on them. It makes Euphoria stronger. Please know that I did not intentionally seek to hurt you or cause confusion in your personal life. If David decides to work for me, we must find a way forward. I'll let you think about what you need, short of abandoning your job, to make that happen. When you are ready, we can talk again."

Aibiba's contemptuous regard was replaced by a look of confused acceptance.

Olivia stood, walked to the door, and opened it, an indication it was time to leave. "Now, I have an appointment I must attend to. Thanks for coming by, Abiba," Olivia said, staring at her unmoving form still sitting in the chair.

"Tulips? Whoever sent you tulips obviously doesn't know you. Such a whimsical, showy flower is too immature and inappropriate for someone so cold, calculating, and draconian," Abiba said before leaving the office.

Abiba's insults would not have swayed Olivia in the absence of the tulips. But she was profoundly shaken into a memory. Ronald Levine gave her yellow tulips after each swim meet. He had brought pastel ones to the hospital the day she tried unsuccessfully to take her life.

* * *

"Breathe, Olivia. Just breathe. You are safe," counseled Dr. Chase.

Olivia concentrated on his words and nothing else. She wasn't quite sure how she'd made it to his office after Abiba left. She had to have asked Frances to call Ben to drive her to Dr. Chase's office. She remembered leaving amidst the calls of Abby asking if she was okay. Thankfully, most people including Rick had been out to lunch when she bounded out of the office and down to the waiting car. She'd interrupted Dr. Chase's session. She knew that. He'd apologized to the other client and cut their session short. Now she was lying in the fetal position on his sofa trying to calm herself.

Her limbs started to loosen and she turned over on to her back.

"That's good, Olivia. Please begin talking when you are ready," Dr. Chase encouraged.

She nodded in search of a coherent thought. "Tulips…" was all she could muster.

"Tulips? The flower, tulips? Is there anything else?" he said.

She shook her head.

"Okay. Let me think," Dr. Chase said. "I'm going to look back at my notes from our early sessions. Give me a moment."

Olivia wondered about all the notes he had detailing their previous sessions over the years as she heard the rustling papers. Although the prospect of others reading those notes horrified her, she trusted Dr. Chase implicitly, knowing he would never share them with anyone. She knew they were all handwritten notes and not subject to hacking like digital ones would be. _Would he release my notes to me if I asked? Destroy them if I asked,_ she thought.

Olivia's mental machinations began to calm her more. She sat up slowly and beheld a black box about the size of a dress shirt box only deeper. Beside the box was a stack of yellow legal pads. _Do these pages hold the horror that was my life?_ she thought.

"Tulips…yes. I remember. You hate tulips or you told me you did when you were in high school. He gave you tulips—" Dr. Chase said.

"Someone sent me a bouquet of pastel tulips this morning," Olivia explained while smoothing down her hair and the beginning to retie the blow on her blouse, "I thought they were from Fitz. There was no card. One of my employees, Abiba made some harsh statements about me related to the tulips. I instantly knew they were from him, Dr. Chase. He sent me tulips. How can he do that from prison? Why would he? Maybe my parents know something. Maybe that this why my mother tried to contact me. This can't be happening. I have never allowed for him getting out of prison. My father said he would keep him locked up forever. My father promised me. He promised…. He promised…He promised meeeeee!"

Dr. Chase's heart was breaking as it had more than a decade ago when he began treating Olivia. Long ago he broke with professional ethics. He knew he should have broken contact with her when she refused to keep her appointments shortly after taking over at the helm of her company. He didn't set up the necessary boundaries. She'd made a lot of progress in daily functioning, but he feared that his occasion to coddle her caused her to bury her scars as opposed to facing her demons head on. As he watched her weeping on the sofa, he couldn't stop himself from once again going against professional ethics. He called her father.

* * *

Olivia noticed three things when she awakened. She was in her own bed. She was fully dressed in her grey trousers and silk blouse. Her mouth was very dry.

When she attempted to lift herself, her limbs felt like lead. She reached for the glass of water sitting on the bedside table while trying to get her mental bearings.

"Sweetheart, let me get that for you."

Olivia froze at her father's voice. _Why is he here?_ she thought. She didn't malign her father's presence only what it signified. Her mother was nearby.

Eli helped Olivia sit up and then handed her the water. She took a long draw of the water, closed her eyes, and drew in several breaths.

"Dad, why are you here? What happened?" she asked, the weakness of her voice made it sound unrecognizable. She reached for the bedside light so she could clearly see his face. He turned it on for her.

"Dr. Chase called me. Please don't be angry with him. You were in distress, baby and he knew you needed us," Eli said.

Olivia glanced at the ajar bedroom door. "Us? Is Mom…"

"No. She wanted to come, but I told her to stay away since you were in crisis," he said, "She's at the hotel."

Olivia took another sip of water and let the conflicting emotions pass through her. Even though she didn't want her mother there, she was disappointed that she hadn't insisted on being there.

Fresh tears fell. "Dad, I th-think he sent me f-flowers to-today. Tulips were delivered…were delivered to my office with no…no card. I could feel it. It wasth him," she said, "Don't try to…con-convince me otherwise. I fe-eel like I…I have been drug…drugged," she said.

"Dr. Chase said you were having multiple panic attacks so he gave you something to calm you down. He exercised discretion so your driver didn't know. Your phone has been ringing constantly so I turned it off," he explained.

Olivia thought of Fitz. He must be worried about her or thinking she was being her usual distant self. Today was election day and she was due to his condo to watch the returns. She wanted to call him, but she couldn't, not in this state. She couldn't contact him until she had this under control. Unfortunately, she didn't know when that would be. Tears for her past now mixed with the tears of her present.

Eli moved from beside her on the bed so he could face her. He had aged since she last saw him. The creases in his face seemed more stark and the circles under his eyes were darker. These were the signs of stress and not age Olivia realized.

As he looked at her, his eyes grew red and glassy. "Olivia, I am so sorry to say this. I tried with all that I had to keep him in prison, but he has been released. His sentence was commuted by executive order of the governor of New York. I couldn't use my contacts to stop it. But I don't want you to live in fear, sweetheart. I will take care of this. He will not terrorize you again," Eli said.

Olivia didn't hear her father's words past governor of New York. "Fitzgerald Grant?" she asked.

"Yes, I would have appealed directly to him, but I couldn't without admitting other things, things I'd done illegally to keep him in prison," Eli said.

Olivia couldn't stop the room from spinning so she slid down on the bed and closed her eyes. The news of her attacker's release and his attempts to contact her along with the news that her Fitz had been the one to release him was too much to take in one day. She gave herself over to the empty fog of the drugs in her system.

* * *

"I don't care who the hell you are! You aren't going to see my daughter! You are the reason she is in the state she is in. Leave now!" Eli Pope demanded.

"With all due respect, Mr. Pope, I have every right to see her. We have been in a relationship for over 6 months. I haven't seen her in two days or spoken to her in several hours something is wrong, and I'm not leaving here until I see her. We can do this cordially or I can use force," Fitz said with a glance at the two agents flanking him at the door.

"Do what you have to. It will be over my dead body…" Eli threatened.

Olivia listened to the muffled voices in a semi-state of consciousness. Fitz was here. He was on the other side of the door in a screaming match with her father. She was all at once flooded with relief and sadness. He was here, but now she would have to tell him to leave.

Olivia rose to her feet and trudged in her barefeet into the living room still wearing yesterday's garments and probably looking terribly off key.

Fitz was standing in the doorway. Two guys were flanking him ready to pounce. Eli looked ready to pounce as well. Fitz had a look of confused anger on his face. He was not wearing his characteristic suit, only jeans, a pullover, and sneakers. _Shouldn't he be at some celebration or doing press to celebrate his win?_ she thought. She'd awoken in the wee hours of the morning to see a playback of his victory speech. His children and other family members had looked on with adoration as he spoke.

"Dad. It's okay. I'll see him," she whispered.

When her declaration had no effect, she raised her voice and squeaked out the words again.

Everyone's attention shifted toward her and what was probably a pitiful sight.

"Livy, what's going on?" Fitz said closing the distance between them, stepping around Eli.

"Dad would you mind leaving while I speak to him?" Olivia asked.

"You don't have to talk to him. I can—" Eli said.

"Dad, I can handle this. Please leave. I'll call you when I'm done talking to him. I'll be fine," Olivia said.

Eli didn't say anything for a moment. Everyone was silent waiting for someone to make a move. Eli grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. "I won't be far," he promised.

Once he left, Olivia closed the front door, ignoring the two guards, locking them out.

"Let's sit in the kitchen," she said, pointing him to the small table reserved for breakfast.

Before they could sit, he pulled her into an embrace from which she drew bittersweet comfort and pleasure as most likely the last time they would be this close.

"Olivia," he said pulling her back, "please tell me the truth of whatever this is. No matter what. I love you."

It was difficult to hear his words. It was as if he'd been waiting for some crazy revelation from her. He didn't seem surprised by her disheveled appearance, he father's presence, or her disappearance these last hours.

"Please sit, Fitz," she said motioning and sliding out of his embrace.

She sat across from him and cupped her hands together on the table as if she was getting ready for a negotiation. "I'm sorry for not being their for you last night—"

He grasped her hands. "I don't care about that. What is going on?" he asked.

Olivia launched into an explanation. "When I was a girl, 13, I was heavy into swimming. My mother hired a personal swim coach. Before long he...he sexually assaulted me for about two years. He went to his sentence was commuted by you and—"

Fitz frowned. "Wait, what? I didn't commute the sentences for any sexual offences or assaults," he said.

Olivia could hear the tightness in his voice. It had to be sinking in. He was now understanding her particular problems. Was he totally confused or totally repulsed? she wondered.

"He was put in prison for tax evasion," she said, "I suspect he sent me tulips yesterday. They weren't from you. There was no card. He used to send me tulips…then so that is how I know," said matter-of-factly.

He just looked at her and said nothing. Olivia waited, but he said nothing for the longest time. She had to look away, but she didn't remove her hands from his grip. How long would it take for her to forget Fitz? This was her thought when she looked away.

"I'm so sorry, Olivia. You have to know I didn't know. Please look at me," he said, "Yesterday, when I couldn't find you, I was angry at you. I thought you were deliberately staying away. I knew there was something, some reason you always keep me at arm's length. Last night I was so mad, frustrated, defeated because the fight was unfair. I didn't know what this thing was that you wouldn't share with me. How could I fight for you if I didn't know what it was. Sitting here with you now, finally knowing what this is, though I know I still don't really know, I feel relieved. I know that might sound selfish, like it is all about me. But it is about me too because I fucked up by letting this bastard out. I'll never forgive myself for that—"

"This isn't your fault. How could it be? It would have happened—you letting him out— whether we met or not," she said.

"I'm going take care of this. Can you tell me his name?" he asked, gently.

Olivia hadn't uttered his name in years. Somehow she found the strength to say it, "Ronald Levine."

"Olivia, can we be together tonight? You can come to the condo or I can stay here unless your father plans to body slam me." Fitz said.

That elicited a surprising chuckle from Olivia. "I'm sorry, but that visual was too much." Olivia dropped her head and let her forehead rest on their clasped hands. "Everything is out of control, Fitz. I can't keep seeing you under these circumstances. Why would you want to keep seeing me after all this? I can't predict what will happen tomorrow," Olivia lifted her head and faced him and said, "You were just reelected. There is no time for all this for—"

"Don't," Fitz said, pulling his hands away, raising his them to stop her, "I know what you are trying to do. You want to push me away. I'm not going to let you do that. Maybe we will break up one day because my constant need to share pointless trivia will grate on your nerves, but I won't let you do this because of something terrible you endured in your past. I love you. I want you. What happened, happened. It's something we can tackle together. I should be allowed a chance. Please give me a chance," he pleaded.

"But I am not the kind of woman you need. You are going to weigh everything I do based on what happened to me and you'll probably be right. You have two children who swim. I can't stand the smell of chlorine. My relationship with my parents is complicated. You have a loving relationship with your family," she said.

Fitz stood and leaned against the wall. He seemed anxious and frustrated almost mad. "I get to decide what kind of woman I need. Don't accuse me of something before it happens. You are you and not what that bastard did to you. I won't abandon you, Olivia. Don't abandon me. I'm sorry if it seems as if I am demanding things from you. I'm not."

"Okay, Okay, Fitz," Olivia said, yielding for now, "you can stay the night if you can talk my father down and convince him I don't need him to stay. I'm going to take a shower." Olivia walked away from the table. She stopped before she reached the hallway, turned around and walked back to him. She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, shedding a few silent tears. She moved out of his arms as quickly as she had walked into them and disappeared into the bedroom.

* * *

"I want to know how you plan to fix this mess you caused, governor," Eli said using his title as if it were a bad word.

Fitz tried to ignore Eli's disdain. He could understand it. This was his fault. He'd released this man. It didn't matter that he was ignorant of the consequences of his actions. The consequences were there, just as real as if he had known.

"I have resources at my disposal to locate him and—"

"I want to be there to take care of it. I want this man annihilated from the earth. I should have done it—"

"Eli, murder is not part of this equation. I will handle this with legality and finality, but not as final as murder," said Fitz.

"It was legality and finality that got us into this mess," said Eli.

Fitz took a sip of wine. He never would have imagined they would now be drinking wine together. Fitz had to employ most of his political skills in the two hours of their standoff. The first hour had been spent mostly in stony silence. "I'll take that. I would ask that you let me resolve this."

Eli didn't look totally convinced, but he was more convinced than when the conversation began.

"You must be worth a little confidence if my daughter is giving you the time of day. Though I'm sure it hasn't been easy," he said with a slight upturn if his lips.

"It's been worth it," said Fitz.

* * *

Fitz knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. "Your dad just left. Can I sleep in here with you?" he asked.

"Where else would you sleep," she asked.

Fitz shrugged and undressed to his boxers. He slid in beside her, pulling her close. She immediately felt a palatable relief and comfort with him next to her. She smiled into her pillow.

"How was it last night?" she asked. "I saw a replay of your speech on late night news. It was good. Your family looked very proud. You and your family look the part of stately politician and polished family," she said.

"Thanks but I was acting. I was thoroughly pissed at you for skipping out on me. I'd called you one time too many and my mother had to take me aside and tell me to suck it up, stop whining like a baby, and do my and I quote, 'damn job.' Cyrus had given me a talking to as well, but it wasn't as effective. How was work for you?"

"I not only pissed you off but I did the same to one of my employees. It was an equal opportunity pissing off day for me," she said through a yawn.

"You do have a particular talent for that. It's almost midnight. You should sleep honey," he said.

She nodded and fell into her first deep, restful sleep since the last time they had shared a bed.

* * *

Thanks for reading...


	14. All the Way

**Chapter 14**

 **All the Way**

* * *

Olivia felt herself coming awake, but the greater part of her wanted to stay in the warm cocoon of the bedclothes. She turned over and caught a whiff of pine and something else she could not name on the cool pillow. Moving closer to the mixture of scents on the other pillow, she inhaled deeply. Thoughts of Fitz filled her mind accompanied by a slight ache in her abdomen.

Startled by the sound coming from the bathroom, she sat up in the bed. Relief washed over her when realized it was Fitz's voice.

"I don't care what it involves, Cyrus. Take care of it immediately. You don't need to know why! Just get it done," Fitz said, in lowered tones that rose with the last sentence.

Fitz appeared in the doorway, head down, staring intently at his cell phone. It was dark, but the light of the phone illuminated him as he examined the screen.

Olivia glanced at her bedside clock. It was barely four in the morning.

"I'm sorry for waking you, Livy," Fitz said, walking to her side of the bed and sitting beside her. "How are you feeling?" he said, flicking on the beside light.

Olivia considered the caring look on his face. In that moment, she had the sense he would do anything for her. _Was that the look of love?_ she wondered. He had professed love before, but she was conflicted about what it meant and how she should respond. She wanted to crawl into his lap and stay wrapped in his arms until she could figure it out.

"I'm fine," she said, "What was that about on the phone?"

He lifted the covers and moved in beside her, motioning for her to lie down.

"I need to get ready for work," she said, resisting him and moving to sit back against the headboard.

Fitz matched her movements and sat up beside her.

"Work, huh? Do you think that is a good idea?" He wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her cool arms.

"The phone call, Fitz…what was that about?" she pressed.

"I'm going to make this right," he said.

"But how can you? I don't know all the specifics, but he didn't go to jail for what he…" her voice trailed off.

"I am so sorry for this," he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she said, turning to face him. "I don't want you to jeopardize your future with this. I know he…he sent me those tulips in some sick gesture, but I don't think there is any chance of physical danger…I'm not a child anymore. I can protect myself. It'll take more visits to Dr. Chase, but…"

Olivia stopped herself, surprised at her slip up. She never mentioned Dr. Chase to anyone.

"Who is Dr. Chase?" Fitz asked.

Olivia tried to move but he kept her still. She held her breath hoping she could think of something to say to end their conversation. Her mind raced. She let out a ragged breath and let her head fall back on the headboard.

"My therapist, Fitz. He's my therapist," she said, unable to face him as she spoke. She looked at the patterns made by the moonlight on her ceiling instead. "I had to start seeing him again because of…because of us. What happened to me…it made me abnormal…emotionally…sexually. That's why we shouldn't get involved…" she said.

She took another deep breath and turned her head to face him waiting for him to protest. She thought he would say something like, _"Well, it's a little too late for that."_

"Maybe we should see Dr. Chase together. I want to learn how to support you…how to show you I love you without—" he said.

"Fitz, stop…I can't understand why you want this…why you want me…and I'm not saying this because I think badly about myself. You just won your second term as governor and you said you want to run for higher office, some day right? I'm a businesswoman with my own goals. I wouldn't be a good wife or mother. I'm not good with people. I don't have friends…"

Fitz clasped her hand and squeezed. Olivia could tell he was trying to decide how to respond.

"It would make me feel better if you would accept a security detail," he said, "I'd put one here and one with you at work. They'd be like shadows. You wouldn't even know they were there," he said.

Olivia looked away and let her head fall back on the headboard. _I love you,_ she thought. She frowned at the sentiment. "I don't have a choice do I, Governor Grant?"

He squeezed her hand again.

* * *

Olivia sipped the coffee from her mug, massaged her temples, and refocused on the computer screen. This was her second cup this morning. She felt groggy either from lack of sleep or the fog of the medicine still in her system. Maybe Fitz had been right. She should have taken the day off. She'd let him convince her to go back to sleep, but she had awoken at half past five, determined to go to work. He had not protested much. Olivia could tell he was treating her like spun glass for fear she'd break if he pushed her too much. She smiled, thinking about him.

Her cell phone rang. She answered despite not recognizing the number. She hoped it was Fitz.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi, Olivia," Maya said.

Olivia didn't know which was more jarring, hearing her mother's voice or her mother's use of her first name and not, "Carrie."

"Please don't hang up. I want to see you…to make sure you are okay. I'm so sorry this is happening now. If I could change all this I would—"

"Mom…Mom, I'm fine. There's no need for us to…I'm fine," Olivia interjected.

"You don't sound fine, I want to see you for myself. You can't keep hating me for what happened in the past. Lord knows I've paid for my mistakes many times over, Car-Olivia. I'm your mother, please…I want to see you…please….please…" Maya pleaded.

"Mom….Mom! Okay…Lunch," Olivia said, "We can have lunch. Meet me downtown at Marco's Tavern at Lafayette Square and Broad."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie, I'll find it. See you at one…and thank you," Maya said.

Olivia disconnected the phone just as there was a knock on her door. Before she could respond, the door opened and Abby walked in.

"Olivia, before you say anything," Abby said, her hands raised as if she wanted to literally push any protests away, "Please hear me out. I want my job back. I've learned my lesson. I shouldn't have acted so unprofessionally, but most importantly, we are a good team, Olivia. I would do anything for this business. No one will be as loyal to you as I am. I heard about Abiba's…situation. I know you hired, David Oshiro. I know he is a design genius, but I'm not sure why, considering we didn't need him and couldn't afford his hefty salary...considering our recent expansion…"

Olivia hadn't been prepared for her mother's call or Abby's pitch. This was yet another reason she should have remained in bed. Abby sounded sincere to Olivia. She could also hear a tinge of desperation in her voice. To be honest, Olivia had missed working with Abby. She had to admit she'd felt betrayed by Abby's indiscretion. She was disappointed in Harrison's actions, but didn't feel as slighted. Olivia rested her head on her hand.

Abby frowned and moved closer. She sat in one of the chairs facing Olivia's desk. "Are you okay? You look…different," Abby said.

Olivia stood and walked to the window. She needed to stretch her legs and fortify herself. All these pleas were starting to grate on her nerves.

"I look different how, Abby?" she asked, folding her arms.

"I misspoke, Olivia. I didn't mean anything by it. We haven't talked in a while. I miss working with you, and I really want my old job back."

"Okay," Olivia said, fully admitting that she needed Abby, especially now,

"Oh my God, Olivia, really? Thank you! I will not disappoint you again. Can we do lunch to catch up? I have some concerns about SpaBliss," Abby said.

Olivia grinned at Abby's excitement as she returned to her desk. "I have a lunch appointment, but we can talk now," Olivia said.

"There's a rumor going around that Abiba is on her way out. She's going to quit, Liv. What if she goes to work for the competition? The setback will hurt sales at SpaBliss. It's going to be difficult to find quality candidates for the job. It's not like there is a school for this," Abby said.

Olivia clicked through her e-mail as she responded to Abby. "There is nothing to worry about Abby. I spoke with Abiba about this already. She's pregnant with David Oshiro's baby after proclaiming to us that she's asexual. Now David is working here. I'm sure that is unsettling for her. Besides, she won't break her contract with what she stands to lose. If she and David reconciles, she will thank me."

Abby sat back in her chair. "David is her baby daddy? Did you know that before you hired him?" Abby asked in surprise.

Olivia didn't immediately respond. Instead, she opened up an e-mail from a vendor.

"Is that why you hired him? But why would you do that considering how you reprimanded Harrison and me? Tell me Olivia? This can't be a coincidence," Abby said.

"Abby, I think it's time for us to add a line of products for pregnant women and their partners. Look at the market. Run some numbers. Also, look at some medical studies we can use in marketing," Olivia said, ignoring Abby's questions.

"I'm on it Olivia. We'll have to bring Harrison in on this early for safety and liability…if that's okay," Abby said.

"Of course, Abby," Olivia said, looking back at her screen.

"May I ask you a question? It is personal and none of my business, but it can affect the company," Abby said.

Olivia turned her full attention to Abby, steeling her expression. She knew Abby was about to ask if she was seeing anyone, and she was ready to make her regret asking such a personal question.

"Are you involved with Fitzgerald Grant?"

Even though, Olivia was prepared to give Abby her coldest stare, she hadn't anticipated Abby knowing enough to speak his name. He cheeks felt hot and she averted her eyes. Olivia knew that her expression had given her away. She also knew she could count on Abby to fill the silence. So she waited.

Abby didn't say a word. The silence grew louder and louder, filling with tension.

Olivia couldn't bring herself to lie or hedge. "Yes," she said simply.

Abby had stood before she asked the question, but she sat back down. "Wow," Abby whispered. She smiled as if Olivia had given her a gift.

"How did you know?" Olivia asked.

"I saw you two together at that fundraiser…and there was a story in the Huffington Post…"

Olivia recoiled in surprise, "What? A story—"

"It was nothing, Liv…a short piece speculating about the identity of the woman with him and his children at a café. The picture was very grainy, but I knew it was you," Abby explained.

Olivia tried to remember that morning to recall if there was anything strange. Then she remembered that she hadn't been able to spot the security detail Fitz had following her today.

"I think it's fabulous, Liv, but it's only a matter of time before this gets leaked. Especially since he was just re-elected...and considering your business. Sex. Politics. Power. Love. These are all the ingredients for a good story," Abby said, "but I promise this stays between you and me."

Olivia stood and escorted Abby to the door. "Thanks, Abby. Let's meet again this afternoon, and please let me know if you ever see any story about me in the news," Olivia said.

"Of course, Liv," she said, gleefully, "Have a good lunch."

Olivia closed the door behind her and walked back to her desk. She had the distinct feeling that she was losing the control she so carefully cultivated.

* * *

"I'm sorry, baby," Maya said, "I wish I could go back in time and—"

Olivia looked at her mother closely. She seemed genuine, but Olivia didn't care. She didn't want to be here sitting in the back booth of Marco's Tavern witnessing her mother's antics.

"Mom…you don't have to do this. The past is done. I don't want to rehash what happened," Olivia said.

Maya reached for Olivia's hand, but she pulled away. "That's why we need to talk about this, Carrie. You hate me for not seeing what he was doing to you. I blame myself because I was there. I'll never know how I didn't see it. Be mad at me for that, but don't hate me because you think I knew what he was doing to you, Carrie. I didn't know. I didn't _know_ …" Maya said.

"Why did you bring me here to talk about this? This is why I can't see you. You only think about yourself. You always put yourself first. Whether you knew what he was doing to me or not, you chose to pull me off the team I loved to have a private coach when we couldn't afford it. All you wanted was the win, Mom…not for me but for you. If you loved me then you would never have brought me here to talk about this in such a public place. I have to go!" Olivia rushed out of the restaurant, ignoring her mother's calls behind her.

"Ms. Pope are you okay?" Ben asked as he settled into the driver's seat. He hadn't seen her red-rimmed eyes when he opened the door for her since she'd been looking down at her phone.

"I'm fine, Ben," she said, "Please take me back to the office." Olivia had the urge to see Dr. Chase, but she couldn't neglect her work. Her personal life was starting to affect her work and she couldn't let that happen.

"Was that your mother? Ms. Pope? I wish I could have greeted her. I haven't seen her in years," said Ben.

Olivia could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but she was too upset for that.

"My mother and I are not on the best of terms, Ben. Having lunch with her today was a mistake," Olivia said before she closed the partition.

* * *

"Governor Grant, rescinding a pardon is unheard of," Cyrus said as he shuffled back and forth across Fitz's office. "Why would you want to do this for Ronald Levine. He was only in for tax evasion.

Fitz glanced up from his computer and peered at Cyrus. "Recensions are rare, yes, but they have been done…2014…Jerry Brown in Texas. Submit the proper paperwork. Have the sick bastard picked up and let me know when it is done. I'll take it from there," Fitz demanded.

Cyrus stopped at his words, "Sick bastard, sir? Do you know Levine?"

Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, realizing his error. He couldn't risk anyone finding out about this.

"Of course not, Cyrus. I don't know this guy from Adam. Just accept that I cannot share my reasons with you. This is one of those favors I have to grant, Cy, to some people in high places. Just take care of it for me, please," Fitz said.

Cyrus nodded his head. "Okay, sir. I've already begun the process. He should be picked up tomorrow. But sir, you should know that he can protest this even from jail. If he decides to contact the media, this could be one hell of a story unless there is a compelling reason for the recension."

Fitz considered Cyrus' words. There was so much he didn't know about Olivia's past. This man had violated her when she was young. When Eli found out the abuse he was able to get him arrested for tax evasion. He also used his contacts on the parole board to keep him here for 15 years. Fitz knew he had to intervene personally once the man was back in jail.

"Once he is back in custody, Cyrus, I need to be notified immediately," Fitz said.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus said.

As Cyrus left the room, Fitz realized how complicated this situation had become. He was essentially flying blind and he needed more information. He needed to speak to Elijah Pope.

* * *

Olivia stood at her window looking for the agent Fitz had appointed there for her protection. She had not been able to spot anyone tailing her and Ben all day. During the ride to work, Olivia had not thought about it. On the way home, she had purposely directed Ben to make three different spots. With her eyes on the back window, she could not pick out any cars that stayed behind them.

"Maybe he forgot," she said aloud. Olivia knew Fitz had a busy day with staff transitions, meetings, and photo ops after the election. She knew they would have little communication after their goodbyes this morning, but that did not stop her from missing him. Olivia felt a little untethered tonight after the lunch with her mother and knowing that her violator was free. She didn't have work to preoccupy her tonight after a couple of productive meetings with Abby. Olivia felt restless and anxious, like she needed to do something.

She looked down at her lounging pants and black jersey top. She threw on darkest sneakers, a grey jacket, and a brown baseball cap. After grabbing her keys and phone, Olivia opened the door and walked out into the cool night air.

She had it in her mind to go for a walk around the neighborhood. Even though it was only six o'clock, it was dark. Olivia looked back toward her garage thinking she should take a drive instead. She talked herself out of it and decided to go for a quick jog until she remembered that she didn't like to jog. She popped a piece of gum. "I should get a dog…then I would have a reason to take this walk," she said aloud.

Olivia walked down the driveway and to the street. The next house was about a mile down the road so she decided to walk there and back. After about 100 yards, a black sedan coasted down the street past her.

"Where did you come from?" Olivia said, "since this is not a through street.

As if on cue, the car stopped and backed up until it was directly beside her. Olivia held her breath as the dark window descended.

Two men with stony expressions were on the other side of the glass.

"Good evening, ma'am," said the driver, "I'm Jones, and this is Rodriguez. Is there something we can do for you?

"Were you sent by Governor Grant?" Olivia asked, moving closer to the car.

"Yes ma'am," said Rodriguez.

"We've been with you all day," said Jones.

"You are quite the shadows. I wasn't able detect you two at all," said Olivia.

"Ma'am, may we give you a ride back to your house?" Jones asked.

"Okay," Olivia said, reaching for the back door, but it was was locked. Rodriguez exited the car and opened the door for her.

 _So he didn't forget_ , Olivia thought. That gave her comfort.

"Thanks Jones…Rodriguez," said Olivia, exiting the car.

"No problem, ma'am," said Jones.

Olivia's phone rang just as she locked the door and activated the alarm.

"Good evening governor," said Olivia.

"It is good now that I hear your voice. I didn't know you took late night strolls, Livy," said Fitz.

"Six o'clock is hardly late. I wasn't sure if you'd given me a detail so I wanted to see," she said.

"You were experimenting with your safety? I'm not pleased, Olivia. Are you okay?"

Olivia could hear the judgment in his voice, and he was right. She had been deliberately reckless. Olivia wanted to see him tonight, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him.

"I'm fine, Fitz. You are right. I should go and—"

"Pack a bag. Jones will bring you to the governor's mansion…or I can pick you up after my last meeting," Fitz said.

"The governor's mansion? I've never been…spent the night there. It's not a good idea. There was an article in the Huffington Post about us…" she said, walking to her bedroom to begin packing.

"It was barely an article…more like a blog post that didn't make any news. I know you haven't stayed here overnight, but we will be discreet. I would come to you or we could go to the condo, but I really need to stay close to the mansion so—"

"Thanks for the invite. I don't want to be alone tonight," she said, softly.

There was silence, causing Olivia to wonder what he was thinking.

"Fitz? Are you still there?" she asked after time stretched on.

"What do you think about staying out the week?" he said.

"I don't know what to say to that," she said, pausing the search of her closet for clothes.

"I'll see you soon. My next meeting is starting in a couple of minutes," he said.

Olivia disconnected the phone before saying goodbye.

* * *

Fitz held the phone for a few more seconds, eyeing it quizzically after Olivia disconnected abruptly.

"Was that my daughter?" Elijah Pope asked from the doorway of Fitz's office at the condo.

Fitz disconnected the phone, walked to the bar, and poured scotch into the heavy crystal drinking glass.

"May I get you or your wife something to drink?" Fitz asked.

Eli shook his head.

"That _was_ Olivia. She is a very interesting woman," Fitz said as they walked into the living room where Maya was waiting. She stood as Eli and Fitz entered the room.

"Mrs. Pope, it is great to meet you," Fitz said extending a hand to her.

Maya shook his hand. "Thank you for having us Governor Grant and for agreeing to help our daughter. How do you know her?" Maya asked.

Fitz glanced at Eli who immediately averted his eyes. "We met when she expanded her company, and I was running for reelection. We had some common interests and have been…friends every since," Fitz explained.

"So how is everything going? Have you rescinded the pardon?" Eli asked.

"It's in process. I called this meeting because of potential problems that might come up later. I need more information about what happened. I have to give cause for the recension. If the media is alerted to the story, someone could begin asking questions that may lead back to Olivia," Fitz said.

"Once he's back in jail it won't matter right?" Maya said.

"It's not that simple, Mrs. Pope. I was compelled to grant Levine a pardon because the maximum sentencing for tax evasion is five years along with a financial penalty. He'd been in jail for almost triple the time and had already paid the fine. If I rescind the pardon, it only takes one phone call to a reporter to get people working on this story. Please tell me more about how he landed in jail, how you, Eli, were able to keep him there, and why he didn't talk. Also, does he have family or friends who might help him?" Fitz said.

Maya's eyes filled with tears. Fitz fetched tissues from the bathroom.

"Thank you," Maya said. "He was Carrie's personal swim coach—"

"Honey, don't do this to yourself—" Eli interjected.

"No, I'm okay. I saw her today for lunch and she couldn't stomach me for 30 minutes…I'm to blame Governor Grant. I hired him to be her swim coach and he hurt her. She never told me outright until after she tried to…tried to kill herself. I pushed her a lot during that time and she didn't want to disappoint me. There were many signs that, looking back, I overlooked," Maya explained.

"Governor Grant, we both failed Olivia. I was traveling a lot, but that doesn't excuse me. I didn't protect my baby girl. It was two years…two agonizing years that he violated her. When we found out, we went through the proper channels to press charges, but Olivia wouldn't speak…or couldn't speak. When she came home from the hospital, she was in this sort of fugue state. She was in no condition to testify to what he did to her. Levine tried to blame it on stress. He denied everything and tried to blame us—" said Eli.

"He tried to get us to believe they were in a relationship…that he had a right to see her…It was awful…" Maya interjected.

"I had some contacts who looked into his past and found evidence that he'd violated his clients before. He had developed a lucrative coaching business aimed at wealthy families. We couldn't get anyone to speak out against him, but forensic accounting showed that he never registered his business nor filed taxes. We were skeptical that anyone would take action on this especially since he came from a wealthy family. Fortunately for us, his parents had apparently disowned him, so besides the court appointed attorney, no one helped him. Each year when he came up for parole, I was able to get them to deny his release by paying off the board. This was one case where the failings of the criminal justice system actually helped to keep a true criminal behind bars," Elijah said.

Fitz needed another drink, but he didn't move from his seat. He kept thinking about Olivia and beginning to understand her more through the lens of her history.

Fitz leaned forward in this chair and said, "So you essentially worked the system to get him in jail and exploited the issues within the system to keep him there. Do you know anything about Martin Berg? He was listed as Levine's advocate on the pardon application."

"The name isn't familiar," said Elijah.

"Can you predict if he would make trouble? Is he invested in covering up this history? If not, he might not go back to jail quietly," said Fitz just as the doorbell rang.

Fitz frowned. He wasn't expecting anyone and according to the visitor's log and his official schedule, he was in a meeting with Cyrus.

He signaled for the guard to check the door. "Sir, It's Mr. Cyrus Beene."

"Let him in," Fitz said.

"Governor Grant, I must talk to you now. Privately, sir. This cannot wait," Cyrus said when he entered the room.

Fitz could see the urgency in Cyrus' eyes. "Please excuse me. I must attend to this," Fitz said to Eli and Maya.

When they were back in Fitz's office with the door closed, Cyrus began his campaign.

"Sir, you must let me help you handle this situation with Olivia Pope. After you called Levine a 'sick bastard,' I reasoned that your desire to rescind the pardon was personal. I figured it had something to do with her so I looked into it. I ran a search on her name and found articles about her swimming titles," Cyrus said, gleefully, "And who was listed as her swim coach almost each time? Ronald Levine. Then their connection runs cold. I could not connect the dots until I did a deep dive and found that he was acquitted of statutory rape in Minnesota. Then I began to wonder if by some twisted coincidence this guy did this to Ms. Pope. I know it's all circumstantial and requires a lot of imaginative gymnastics but somebody could connect these dots, especially if this bastard begins to talk. On top of all of this, you are involved with the woman whose violator you released but then put back in jail. There are so many ways to look at this. It's a fucking kaleidoscope, but it has the same damn picture. We are screwed."

Fitz sat down while Cyrus poured them both a drink.

"Now, for other reasons, I tried to talk you out of getting involved with her. Aside from this, there are other reasons why she isn't a good choice for you considering your future ambitions. But you shut me down. I guess the heart wants what it wants. I can't let you handle this, sir. You are going to have to stay a thousand miles away from this. It is my strong recommendation that we do not rescind the resignation. Instead, he will be discreetly approached and offered some kind of deal to go away. If you put the man back in jail, he won't go back quietly. In the interim, we must try to scrub the system of any evidence of their connection," Cyrus said.

Fitz couldn't help but see the glee in Cyrus' eyes as they danced with excitement. Cyrus was enjoying the intrigue; the shadiness of it all seemed very appealing to him.

Fitz took a swig of his drink and considered Cyrus' words.

"Governor Grant, let me take care of this. This is what I am here for, to help you," Cyrus said.

"So you recommend I maintain the pardon, but blackmail him into staying away from Olivia," Fitz said, "But how can I protect him from doing this to someone else?"

"I recommend you keep everything as is and let me handle it. I will ensure he doesn't harm Ms. Pope or any other woman. I will also protect you from any connection with this," Cyrus said," but you must give me full reign to handle this. You can't know sources or methods. That's the only way to protect you and Ms. Pope."

Fitz took another swig of Scotch. He stared into the liquid as if the answer was there.

"Let's look at it another way sir," Cyrus argued, "How far are you planning on taking this relationship? If this isn't serious, I would recommend you give her good security while you all are dating and keep your relationship secret. So, the question is…how far do you want to take this relationship with Ms. Pope?"

Fitz leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. "Cyrus, I believe you already know the answer that question. But let's be totally clear on why you are doing this. You've made it clear you don't support my relationship with Olivia. Why would you offer to help me…us? Why not try to convince me to give up the relationship?"

"I believe in you, sir. I believe in your vision for the great state of New York and for this nation. I want to help you win it all. I want you to have what you need. You've made it clear that you want her so far be it from me to stop you. I try to fight battles I can win. Let me do my job, sir," Cyrus said.

"Okay, Cyrus. We have a deal. Call off the pardon recension and do what you have to do to make him go away," said Fitz.

* * *

Olivia sat at the round table in Fitz's bedroom at the governor's mansion engrossed in her laptop. Since her arrival, she had showered, spoken to Abby about preliminary proposals for the pregnancy line, and been reading financial reports. Being there had released her anxiety and calmed her enough to get some work done. She hadn't realized how much time had past until Fitz entered the room at 10.

She gave him a slight smile before looking back at the screen.

He walked to her chair and reached for her. "I suppose I deserve a snub, coming in at this late hour.

Olivia stood and walked into his embrace. Pulling back, she said, "I'm not the kind of woman who will be sitting by the door waiting for you to come home, Fitz. I know you had work. You are the governor of New York. I had work of my own," she said.

They regarded each other for a time before their lips met, communicating all they wouldn't or couldn't say in the silences between them. Fitz indulged in the sweetness of her, but he kept a hold on his desire knowing he could not fulfill his desire to completion.

Olivia felt that familiar ache for him. She didn't hold back, but she knew he would. She wasn't mad at him for treating her so delicately. She couldn't predict how she'd respond if they tried to make love.

By the time they were on the bed, he pulled back and cupped her face for one last kiss.

"I need to take a shower," he said, pulling away from her and walking to the bathroom.

She nodded in agreement, taking deep breaths to clear her head.

"Did you meet with my father today?" she said. Olivia followed him into the bathroom. When he stood in front of the toilet, Olivia stepped back through the door and closed it.

He answered after the flush. "Yes."

Olivia returned to the bathroom when she heard the shower spray.

"Fitz, what is going on?" she asked, not hiding the irritation in her voice. Olivia was being deliberately obtrusive by barging into the bathroom twice. The liberties she took were foreign to her. He didn't seem to mind so she persisted. She watched him under the spray, intrigued by his nakedness. Her eyes followed the soap as it trailed down his body front and back. The longer she looked the quicker her breath became and the faster her heart beat.

"Honestly, Livy, at this moment I'm finding _it hard_ to take a shower with you ogling me like that," he said, "I'll be out in a few minutes and will answer your questions."

Olivia pursed her lips and left the room.

"I met with your mother and father," Fitz said after he had finished the shower and was back in the bedroom.

"My mother was there so you witnessed her histrionics," Olivia said.

Fitz was not expecting that response even though Maya talked about their strained relationship. "She was upset when she talked about—"

"Let's skip that part. What going to happened with…him?" Olivia said.

Fitz tapped the bed, inviting her to join him there. "I have taken care of it. I am going to make sure he doesn't contact you ever again. I'm going to make him disappear," he said.

"How are you going to do that, Fitz?" she asked.

"I cannot share the details," Fitz said, "because I don't really know them. I have someone taking care of it."

"Thank you," she said.


	15. Abnormal Psychology

**Chapter 15**

 **Abnormal Psychology**

* * *

Ronald did not like skulking in the shadows, but the circumstances required it. Hiding was easy on the busy street teeming with people aware of nothing but their screens. The obsession people had with the little phones glued to their palms made no sense to him. This was something that happened while he was in prison.

He saw her before he could think the next thought. She exited the black sedan with a smile and a nod to the driver before looking down at her own little screen. A grin spread over his lips at the prospect of talking to her. Ronald knew seeing him might cause her an initial shock and he had no idea how he would handle a negative response. He pulled his cap lower and crossed the street.

Ronald felt something abnormal when he was in the middle of the intersection. There was pressure and then a burning sensation in his right side. That was all he remembered.

* * *

"We are here to discuss Abiba's objections to Abby's product ideas for expectant moms," Olivia announced.

She sat at the head of the conference table trying to mediate the conflict between them. Abby came prepared with a binder that included mock ups and descriptions of the products. It was an impressive accomplishment in such a short amount of time. Abiba sat facing Abby with a serious expression, ready to defend her arguments.

Abiba motioned for the binder. "May I?" she asked in deference to Abby.

"By all means…" Abby said, raising her hands to realize the binder.

"It doesn't make sense to reinvent the wheel," said Abiba, as she flipped through the binder, "It borders on being a gimmick to create an entire line of toys for pregnant women. During pregnancy, a woman's anatomy does not fundamentally change to warrant new toys. I recommend we publish a booklet of guidelines with sexual positions, safety tips... It can include ways women can modify their use of our existing products as their bodies grow and change. This is my first pregnancy so I do not have many personal anecdotes, but I have noticed that my clitoris is larger now. It is easier for me to achieve multiple orgasms when I masturbate. I also get them quicker. I begin with my vibrator on a lower setting. Now that I think of it, that makes sense. I've had a few pregnant clients at my previous job, and they expressed an increased libido and sensitivity. With all that said, I'm not against marketing to pregnant women, but I don't agree with Abby's idea of creating new toys."

Olivia thought about her time with Fitz, his tongue and fingers moving between her legs. It had felt good, but she wasn't sure if what she felt was an orgasm even though it was unlike anything she had ever felt. Despite all the porn she had seen and the countless conversations at work about the interworkings of sex, she had no authentic personal sense of what was supposed to happened when the orgasm occurred. She did not trust the reactions she saw on screen.

"It was my idea, Abiba," Olivia corrected. "Abby was simply following my orders. You make a good point, but why do our competitors have these products?"

Abiba shrugged. "It's just as I said before, a gimmick they hope will pay off."

"Abby, would you leave Abiba and I to speak privately? You and I can debrief later about next steps in light of what Abiba has shared with—"

"But shouldn't I be part of—" Abby began, with a deep frown.

"This is of a personal nature, Abby." Olivia said.

Abby looked between the two of them, nodded her head, and then left the room.

"So…how are you doing, Abiba?" Olivia turned, giving Abiba her full attention.

Abiba clasped her hands together, the clinking bangles interrupting the quiet in the room. Her expression was more curious than perturbed as she had been in their last meeting. She was also dressed in the familiar bohemian garb, a long flowing skirt with tank top and a series of scarves. Olivia took this as a sign that she wasn't still reeling from her new status.

In contrast, Olivia wore a pencil skirt, silk blouse, and tailored jacket.

"If you are asking how I'm grappling with my pregnancy and…David," she responded looking askance as if searching for the words, "I'm…learning…learning that I need to practice more of what I preach. I think back to our interview and how in control I felt. I was that way because I was being deceptive to get this job…pretending to be asexual…"

Olivia gave an acknowledging nod, remembering how she had tried to trick Fitz with the same deception. "That was interesting at the time," Olivia said.

Abiba leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Having David in my life again is complicated, but in the long run I know it's better for him to know about the baby. I do love him, but it is not easy being with him. It's mostly cultural differences…his family. They would rather see him with a Japanese woman…or really any woman who isn't black. We tried it for two years...to be in a relationship, but I couldn't do it anymore. I went through a stage of trying to mold myself into someone his family might accept. Then I just got tired. I broke it off months ago. But…we never quite broke it off because we kept having sex. It's really good with him. I never thought vaginal orgasms during sex were possible until I met him. I've had both with him vaginal and clitoral…sometimes at the same time or back-to-back."

In this business, Olivia had found that people rarely discussed sex freely. Usually their words were shrouded in euphemisms. They lowered their voices or seemed visibly nervous or excited. Not Abiba. She spoke about it directly, which Olivia found refreshing also long as she was the spectator or evaluator in the conversation and not a participant.

"I'm glad you and David are working out your differences," Olivia said.

"I wouldn't say that yet, but we are trying." Abiba stood and began to stroll around the table. "Olivia, this…conversation is…a little strange. I've spent most of my time here modulating between excitement and confusion and anger…now I'm at acceptance."

Abiba walked back to her chair and sat down to face Olivia as if she were apprehensive about what she was going to say. "Euphoria is an interesting place to work. I heard the rumors before I started working here and I now know most were just that, rumors. Some have said it is a cult…since no one seems to leave. It's very rare. Folks around here are loyal, but the biggest mystery is you. I want to ask questions, but—"

That elicited a frown from Olivia. "A cult?" Olivia said in defense, "I've heard the rumors too... some more creative than others…that we run a brothel, have ties to organized crime…the most outlandish—that I make staff have sex with me—they are all absurd. Many of my policies are standard. The confidentiality agreements staff are required to sign protect the company, not any mysterious practices. People build up these myths about me just because I choose not to share every detail of my life—"

"Actually, you don't share _any_ details…" Abiba interjected.

Olivia continued, not phased, "It might also be because I am an African American woman. We are fraught with sexual baggage put on by society. Most people would be surprised to know that aside from my business success, I'm unremarkable."

"I'm sure your significant other would disagree," Abiba said.

Olivia's expression was blank, unreadable. Ignoring the comment, she pushed back from the table and stood. "I appreciate your honesty and candor about how you are doing, Abiba, and I thank you for your help with the products. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you," she said with a tight smile.

"I appreciate that," said Abiba.

* * *

It wasn't often that Fitz visited Cyrus' office. A week had passed since he agreed to give Cyrus full reign over the Ronald Levine problem. There had been no discussion about it since. It was beginning to nag him, the not knowing. He needed to change that today.

Fitz breezed into Cyrus's office without knocking. "I need to talk with you now, Cyrus," he said.

Cyrus was holding court with several of his staff. They all stood when Fitz entered the room, looking from Cyrus to Fitz, their interest piqued and waiting for direction.

"Certainly, Governor Grant," Cyrus said, walking around his desk to usher everyone out, "We'll resume this meeting later."

After everyone shuttled out, Cyrus shut the door. "How can I help you, sir," he said.

"Is it done?" Fitz asked.

Cyrus grabbed a yellow legal pad from the desk, scribbled on it, and said, "You mean finalizing the state dinner date and guest list? Yes, sir. We are all set." Cyrus ripped the page from the pad and gave it to Fitz. The words, "taken care of" were scribbled across the center.

Fitz read the words several times before looking back at Cyrus quizzically.

"Is there anything else you need, sir?" Cyrus said.

Fitz lingered a while longer before leaving the room. _Did he have to be that cryptic? Does he really think we are being surveilled?_ Fitz thought as he went back to his office.

* * *

"Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today?" Dr. Chase asked Olivia.

After a slight nod, Olivia crossed her arms and slid to the edge of the sofa. As she ruminated on her thoughts, she changed position again and pushed back against the sofa. "Do you have any…?" she asked.

"Oh, yes…just bought some new flavors. I think you'll like this one," he said. Dr. Chase reached in his desk drawer for the gum.

Olivia reached for the pack of Trident gum. Once she popped a piece in her mouth, she exhaled.

"Fitz wants us to schedule a session together," she said.

"How do you feel about that?" Dr. Chase probed.

"I don't have strong feelings about it either way. He believes that talking to you will help him understand me…that he will learn how to help me heal from what happened so we can be in a real relationship," she said.

"Why did you use air quotes for heal?"

Olivia was beginning to feel more comfortable. She spit the gum in a wrapper and tossed it in the trash. "If healing means I have to experience some big reconciliation with my mother, rehash the details of what happened in hopes that the smell of chlorine won't make me nauseous, or try to undo who I am, I don't want to heal…I like knowing Fitz…I _like_ him, but it is hard because I never know what to expect with him or what to expect from myself when I'm with him. I can never predict or plan for anything…"

"Could you give me an example of the difficulty?" Dr. Chase asked while making notes on his writing pad.

She rolled her eyes a little at his note taking. When he made a note about something, she knew from experience he only noted significant things, and he would press her on them in the future.

"Fitz is…he's a distraction. I think about him a lot when we are not together. When I know we are going to see each other, I am anxious and excited…nervous about seeing him. Then when we see each other, it takes a while before I calm down or feel settled…"

"This sounds like physical attraction. It's a normal response," he exclaimed.

"But it should have gone away after we were together the first time…and speaking of that, I don't think he enjoyed it. I did, but not enough to want to do it again. I know Fitz thinks that if we meet with you together, it will fix everything, but it won't because this is who I am. Yes, my past and the choices I've made define who I am now. A big part of that past was…unfortunate but I don't need to heal it. It's over," Olivia said. She popped another piece of gum.

"Are you and Fitzgerald in a real relationship?" he asked.

"Yes, but I can't predict what's going to happen. I wonder if we have anything besides this nebulous physical attraction," she said.

Dr. Chase jotted notes on the pad before saying, "What would it mean for you if it is only a physical attraction?" he said.

She discarded another piece of gum before popping a fresh piece in her mouth. "I don't know," she admitted.

He wrote more notes.

"Do you want to talk about Ronald Levine's release?" he said.

"No."

"I'd like to recommend that you talk to Fitz about your feelings…how being around him makes you feel…Maybe talking about it will lessen the anxiety," he advised.

"He knows I'm attracted to him. I don't see why we should talk about it," she argued.

"Yes, maybe it would be helpful for him to know how you experience him. How do you think he experiences you?"

Her eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"Do you consume _his_ thoughts? Does he feel anxious around _you_? Do you distract _him_?" Dr. Chase asked.

"Obviously, he is attracted to me. The difference is that he had a normal childhood as far as I know. He knows how to handle it. I've never experienced this aside from the crush I had on Travis Jackson in 6th grade," Olivia said with a grin.

"Travis Jackson? You've never mentioned him before," Dr. Chase said with a look of surprise. There was more scribbling.

"I haven't thought about him in years. He sent me a candy gram for Valentine's Day. We sat together at the pep rally," she said with a rare gleefulness in her voice.

"What happened to him?"

"He moved."

"Olivia do you realize what you have said?" Dr. Chase asked, looking down at his notes, " 'The difference is that he had a normal childhood…He knows how to handle it' By saying that you acknowledge that you don't know how to handle certain aspects of your relationship with Fitz. Maybe Fitz is having the same difficulty, and so, he wants to come here with you for that reason only…not to fix or change you. I can't speak for Fitzgerald, only he can. That's why I think it is a good idea to talk to him."

She acknowledged his suggestion with nod, though she did not intend to act on it.

* * *

Olivia leaned into the mirror and applied mascara to both eyes. She was refreshing her makeup instead of washing it off after a long day. Tonight she was having dinner with Fitz and his parents. Karen and Gerry were away on an overnight school field trip. She was accustomed to them, but his parents were going to be a new experience. After leaving Dr. Chase's office, Ben had dropped her off at the Governor's Mansion, but Fitz was not there. He had phoned her earlier as she was exiting the car.

 _"Sweetie, I'm delayed. This budget is getting the best of me. I'll be there in an hour," he said._

 _"When are your parents getting here?" she said._

 _"Are you inside?" he said._

 _"Ben is dropping me off now, Fitz." There was an undeniable edge to her voice._

 _"I'm sure my parents are already there. I'll be home in an hour. Tell them—"_

 _"Fitz, no! I am not meeting your parents for the first time without you here! I'll go home and come back when you return," she argued._

 _"But Sweetheart I already told them I would be late and that you would be there—"_

 _"You what? Why would you do that? I can't. I won't—" she said._

 _"Sweetie, you can talk to anyone. Besides my parents are harmless. You'll be doing me a big favor. I have to go. See you soon," he said before hanging up._

The searing anger that consumed her earlier had cooled, but the fear underneath remained. _How could Fitz expect her to entertain his parents?_ she thought as she freshened her lipstick. It would have been easy to leave with Ben, but obligation kept her there. She reasoned she had to stay because she owed it to him.

With a flick of her wrist, she saw the time. She could do this. She could play this role.

* * *

Talking to Fitz's parents was not as difficult as Olivia thought. During their burgeoning relationship, conversations about family had been few between them. She did not know anything about his parents aside from their names: Franklin and Joyce Grant.

Now they sat in the parlor on the ornately patterned sofa across from Olivia who sat in a matching arm chair. She was adept at controlling a conversation to get what she wanted. In this case, she wanted to deflect attention away from anything personal. They were both university professors so she peppered them with questions about their work.

"Franklin, please do not bore Olivia with your book. You've already talked non-stop about the last two you wrote," Joyce said, touching her husband on the arm, "It's too late in the evening to be talking constitutional law."

"It's no bore, really," Olivia said, pressing on, "So, Mr. Grant, you argue in this book that the Supreme Court is becoming more of a protector of the government and its abuses of power than a defender of the constitution. When did this trend begin?"

"Well, you see it was—" Franklin began.

"No offense dear," Joyce said touching her husband's arm again, "but this is boring _me_. Olivia, you have listened with rapt attention to me talk about the article I am working on and Franklin drone on about his books. Thanks for humoring us, but we want to hear about you."

Olivia smiled and took a sip of water. She had hedged for as long as she could. She took a deep breath and said, "There is not a lot to know. I am an only child. My parents are lawyers. My dad practices patent law. My mom practiced family law but she stopped when I was a child. They both live in Virginia. I am in the intimate products industry."

Olivia noticed Joyce's raised eyebrows, which she attributed to a reaction to her last comment.

"You're being modest, Olivia. Fitzgerald said you were the CEO of a major corporation in that industry," Joyce said.

Franklin piped in, "He also said you made the best lasagna he's ever tasted."

Joyce shook her head in disapproval, "Olivia, please forgive my husband. Your cooking skills are obviously irrelevant. Although, I'm sure Franklin wished I was a good cook. Full disclosure, I'm not."

"Nothing I said needed forgiving," Franklin mused, "I didn't marry you for your cooking skills." He squeezed his wife's thigh and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Fitz walked into the parlor during their show of affection.

"Dad…Mom…what are you doing? PDAs in front of my girlfriend?" Fitz said. He chuckled as he walked fully into the room, stopping behind the sofa. Catching Olivia's eye, he gave her a wink.

"Our son, the two-time governor is too busy to meet his old man and mother for dinner," Franklin said, before they hugged.

Fitz hugged his mother also. "Olivia was the perfect host. She listened patiently to both of us. Your father talked about his favorite thing."

"The Constitution?" Fitz guessed.

"I also talked about my latest article," Joyce said, with a look at Olivia, "She's either extremely interested in Constitutional Law and Colonial American History or she's a very good actress."

Fitz winked at Olivia again and said, "She is both. Mom, Dad, go get settled in the dining room. We'll be in soon."

Olivia observed their interaction quietly. Even though talking to Franklin and Joyce alone had not been unpleasant, she was not sure how she felt about Joyce.

Fitz walked over to her as his parents left the room. They stood there regarding each other. She smiled. He smiled.

He reached for her hand, "Thank you."

She touched his cheek with her other hand. "I am glad I could help, but please don't ever do that again."

* * *

Olivia and Joyce took a stroll through the grounds after dinner.

"So…you've met Karen and Gerry?" Joyce asked.

Olivia knew this was less a question and more a probe to know more about her relationship with Fitz.

"Yes, I have. They are remarkable children."

"It was difficult at first when their mother died. She had been sick for some time. Her death was not a shock but still very difficult. She was everything to them," Joyce said.

They walked in silence for a while. Joyce stopped walking but continued. "Franklin and I wanted Fitzgerald to be an academic, but after law school he became interested in politics. I blame my brother for that. I know he wants to try to go all the way to the White House and he needs someone who will be as committed to his goals as he is, Olivia. Anyone who wants to be with him should know what it involves. I know my son. He cares for you, but you don't seem to be invested."

"What do you mean, invested?" Olivia said, her eyebrows knitting together.

"You weren't there on election night when he won for one and—"

Olivia searched for the right words to respond. She knew Joyce was simply trying to protect her son, but she could not ignore how defensive she felt when Joyce mentioned her absence on election night. "I do care for Fitz very much. I had a family emergency and could not make it. But Joyce, you have misinterpreted our relationship. What we have is complicated…"

Joyce looked at her watch. "We need to get back", she said, briskly and turned back to the house.

Olivia watched Joyce's retreating figure and increased her pace to catch up with her.

When they reached the glass door, Joyce stopped and turned to Olivia. "I do not intend to be rude, Olivia. What you are saying and what Fitz tells me does not match. If you are not serious about my son, you should tell him before anyone gets hurt."

* * *

Olivia needed gum. While Fitz was outside walking his parents to their car, she opened kitchen cabinet drawers in search of gum.

Teenagers lived in the house so there had to be gum or candy somewhere. Just when she was about to give up, she found a pack of Hubba Bubba in a small drawer by the pantry door. This was not her preference, but she quickly dispensed with the wrapper and popped this quasi gum into her mouth.

Olivia wanted to go home and regroup after tonight's events. But that would require a change in their already established plans, which included her spending the night at the Governor's Mansion with Fitz. He would want to know why she wanted to go home, and she did not relish a conversation about it right now.

"What are you eating?" Fitz said with a grin, "You don't look like you are enjoying it."

Startled, Olivia looked up quickly to see him standing in the doorway. She spat out the gum in the nearby trash can. To get rid of the sugar coating her mouth, she filled a glass with water and took a couple of sips.

"I wanted some chewing gum but the Hubba Bubba was too much."

He pushed off the door and moved closer. "I can go out—"

She slid her arm around him and leaned into his side hug. "No, it's fine. I need to respond to e-mails before I go to bed. Do you have any work?"

"You know the answer to that," he said as they walked to his study, "I wasn't planning on doing anything tonight. We have the whole mansion to ourselves tonight so my plans included random kissing and hand holding." He gave her a peck on the lips.

"Really? I'll allow it," she responded with a smirk.

As he kissed her, she savored the feel of his lips on hers and the sensation of their tongues sliding together. This felt good and manageable, but Olivia knew it would soon change. They always reached a point where kissing was not enough. No matter how much they pulled at each other to deepen the kiss, the point of saturation was reached and Olivia pulled back from what she knew was possible after the first time they made love. Physically she wanted to be with him, but mentally she did not want to deal with the loss of control.

Fitz pulled her back into his arms for a hug before stretching out on the sofa with his Blackberry. Olivia sat at his desk and powered on her laptop.

They spent 20 minutes in silence except for the sounds of tapping keys. Olivia glanced over at Fitz with a mental note of how his presence prevented her from doing any real work. She pursed her lips when he winked at her.

"What is it with you and winking tonight?"

He walked over to her and started massaging her shoulders. "I don't know. When I'm around you, my body has a mind of its own. I don't know what do do with myself. Thanks again for hosting my parents while I was delayed. But I won't do it again as you requested. So how did it go with them?"

Olivia reached back and stilled his hands so she could move to the sofa. She also needed time to find the words.

"It was…fine."

"Uh oh. What does that pause mean?" They settled together on the sofa.

She sighed. He was looking at her like he was determined to solve a puzzle.

"I could talk to your dad for hours. He has a brilliant mind and he is so passionate about the Constitution. Your mom, she's just as passionate about her work, but she was more interested in me."

"That is understandable, right? You are the first woman I have dated seriously since Mellie died."

"Yes, but our relationship is…" her voice trailed off and she looked away from him.

"Our relationship is what, sweetheart?" he said, nudging her chin until their eyes met.

"It is not normal, Fitz. Your mother sees that and thinks I'm not being loyal to you…that I am not serious about you." She looked away again, but he pulled her back.

"What is abnormal about us?"

"So you want me to say it? Okay. We've only had sex once," she said.

When he didn't respond, she said, "I am…because of what happened to me, I have never had a normal sex life or any sex life, and I don't think I ever will. What we are doing is only temporary. Nothing will change that about me, Fitz. No matter how much therapy I have alone or with you…that won't change. Your mother was right, I guess. She could sense that part of me that is not invested."

Up until her last comment she could not read his expression. Now he looked angry. "What are you talking about?"

"Your mother thinks I'm not invested in our relationship because of my absence on election night. We both know she doesn't know the whole story, Fitz, but she is right. I can't give you what you need. Our relationship would always be one-sided," she said.

"One-sided how, Olivia? Are you saying that I give you what you need? Am I invested enough for you?"

"I bet you were a good lawyer, Fitz." She sighed then continued. "I want to be with you as we are now. I think about you a great deal. I like kissing you. I get this queasy feeling right here," she said, placing his hand over her abdomen," when I first see you or think about seeing you. But what we have is all temporary."

"Do you love me, Olivia?"

She let her heart speak. "Yes."

He looked genuinely surprised before leaning in for a kiss. She pulled away before they reached that familiar point.

"I love you, too. Thanks for sharing how you feel about me mentally and physically. As far as I'm concerned, that's enough for now. I want to make love to you again, but not until you want to. Will you ever want to? I don't know. To be honest, there is so much about you I want to learn."

Olivia crossed her arms and took a good look at the man she loved realizing once again, how unpredictable it was being with him. "You can attend my next session with Dr. Chase."

He smiled and said, "Thank you."

They sat for a while wrapped in each other's arms.

Olivia stood up first. "We need to go to bed."

"Okay. I have a strange request," he said.

She yawned. "And what is that?"

"Can I carry you upstairs?"

Olivia couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. He took that as a "yes," and scooped her up in his arms, causing her to laugh out loud.


End file.
